In Love With A Prince's Bride
by CathryForever
Summary: The story of how Richard loved Catherine, from when he met her until he lost his head for loving her (S1 E11 - Inquisition). It has Cathry aspects, but it's not really a pro-Cathry story. Bear with me though! I adore Cathry, but I wanted Catherine to be loved like she deserved, and Richard did that for her, so here's their story from Richard's point of view. M rated for Ch. 13.
1. Chapter 1

_AN_ _: So here we go with my first non-Cathry story! *angst* I ADORE Cathry, and am for them steadfastly, BUT my true love is actually Catherine. I wasn't particularly drawn to Richard in the storyline on Reign, but I did rejoice in the fact that someone loved her as much as I wanted her to be loved – comforting her during her difficult times with Henry, even conceiving a child together, loving her like "no man had ever cared for her before", in Catherine's own words. He laid his life down for her to protect her, and honestly I started to want to write his perspective on Catherine – their story (hence not really Cathry, or not happy Cathry anyway – Henry's in there plenty of course), from Richard's point of view. I wrote this chapter and then stalled. Someone encouraged me to do NaNoWriMo in November, which is a challenge to write a 50,000 word novel in a month. I chose to pick up this "Richard" fanfic and run with it, and I finished with over 50,000 words today! It's not quite finished, but by the time I publish the later chapters, it should be. I hope you give Richard a chance in my story! I have enjoyed writing from the POV of someone who loves Catherine the way I would if I were him._

 _This first chapter is kind of almost over the top with his adoration for her, but I wanted to set the scene for him being truly smitten by Catherine._

 **Chapter One**

She floated in on his arm, resplendent but shy, blushing prettily, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. Nobody else existed - the nobles around him, the King and Queen of France in their proud satisfaction, princes and princesses happily smiling for their brother as he escorted his betrothed for her first public appearance at French court. Even his best friend, whose arm she held, seemed to fade from the room along with everybody else. Only she remained.

Time seemed to stop. Sounds became soft and muffled, echoing in the distance. The light of the room sharpened and seemed warmer and brighter. How did she make that happen?! He had never set eyes on such a creature before. The light made her sparkle, or was it she who made the light sparkle? He noticed the dimples in her cheeks, the way the candlelight shone on each of the soft golden curls that framed her face. He was not even that near to her yet. What presence she had for such a young lady.

Nearer and nearer she came, as her husband-to-be led her smoothly to their places at the banqueting table. Near enough for him to see her more clearly, but still removed. His friend pulled out a chair for her when they reached her place and, smiling the most radiant smile he had ever seen, she took her seat.

He saw the curls lean forward, and her earrings, as she bent towards the table to sit in her chair. He watched the way her lips curved upwards at the corners in a timid little smile; the graceful way she held her shoulders. He was utterly captivated. All through the meal he watched her, as subtly as he was able, delighting in the curve of her slender fingers around her glass of wine, the way she ate so carefully, and the rosy hue of her cheeks as the meal went on. The sweet sound of her laughter, nervous but pure, talking to the man who would soon be her husband. He did not know if he had touched his meal at all, save for a few morsels. He had no appetite for food any longer.

After the meal he lost sight of her as she was led to be introduced to person after person. The room being overcrowded with guests, he craned his neck trying to catch sight of her. Even a glimpse of the edge of her skirts was reward enough. He wondered when his friend would bring her over to be formally introduced, and whether he would have the ability to form words in greeting. His hands began to sweat. What had he said her name was again?

"Richard!"

He startled from his thoughts with a jump. There they stood before him, his best friend in the world, and the one who could never be his – the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She smiled shyly, her hand looped around his friend's arm.

"I would like you to meet my future wife! This is Caterina - "

" _Catherine…_ " came the soft, almost apologetic correction. Her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her.

"Catherine," agreed his friend, "Catherine de Medici. This is my closest friend, Viscount Richard de la Croix."

A pause. He felt the expectation. 'Say something!' he thought to himself frantically, 'Say anything, you fool!' Removed from his own body, he watched his own arm reach forward and pick up one of Catherine's hands. He felt like he was touching the moon. Her fingers were soft and so small against his own, which he gently folded around hers and raised her hand out in front of her. Dropping slowly into a respectful bow, he alighted his lips on her treasured skin, allowing himself for just a fraction of a moment to breathe in her scent. Floral… jasmine, perhaps? A fragrance that would forever be his undoing from this day forward, if he happened upon it in the flower gardens. He lowered her hand, letting go her fingers with regret at the loss of contact. He stepped back a pace and straightened.

"It is an honour to meet you, Catherine. You are every bit as beautiful as Henry led me to believe."

Eyelashes fluttering slightly, the rose flush to her cheeks deepening, she turned a bashful face a little to one side, away from the focus of such attentions. He lived and breathed the sight of her sweet smile, rejoicing in the fact that he had put it there on her lovely face. His friend clapped him heartily on the shoulder, chuckling at his flattery of his bride-to-be.

"Come, my friend! Where's your Lady Christine this evening?" He scanned the room cheerfully. "I'm sure she would welcome such a flattering tongue!"

Coming to his senses somewhat, he remembered his place, and who he was speaking with – whose fiancée he had been captivated by.

"Oh, inseparable from Marie and Colette this evening – see?" Richard gestured across the bustling hall with a laugh, trying to sound as casual as possible. Three giggling girls in embellished ruffled gowns huddled together at the far side of the room, arms linked. They looked as eager as the other young guests watching the musicians setting their instruments up, ready for the dancing.

Henry nodded, amused. "I see what you mean! Well, my condolences at the loss of your lady for the evening!" He laughed at his own humour, and added with a wink, "It's a shame you can't dance with the most beautiful lady in the room all night, like a lucky man I happen to know…"

Henry's folly cut through Richard like a knife, little did he realise the pain he could be inflicting with his words, or how badly his friend wished he could be that lucky man. He glanced at Catherine, who was flushed once more, uncomfortably flattered at the attention Henry was giving her in front of his friend. Pushing his jealousy down, Richard held his head high.

"Perhaps ONE dance wouldn't be too much to ask, friend?"

Had he just said that out loud? He cowered inside, despite his bold stance, afraid that somehow Henry might see through his exterior, might read his mind and know that his best friend was smitten, that his bride-to-be had Richard's heart. Or perhaps he would be angry at the audacity of such a request, when he himself had only just received his future wife into his company, and should not be deprived of her for any reason.

But Henry laughed and grasped his friend's shoulder amiably, "Of course! It's the least I could do to help a friend in his hour of need!"

Richard had just a moment to catch Catherine's bashful eye, suddenly feeling the urge to apologise for being so forward with someone so special and out of his reach. But before he could communicate anything, she was swept away on Henry's arm, ready to join the King and Queen in leading the dancing for the evening, and Richard was left to process his thoughts, his mind and heart reeling from the unexpected onslaught of feelings towards the new lady in his life – or rather unfortunately for him, in his friend's life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Nearing the end of his ride for the afternoon, Richard slowed his horse at the approach to the castle. The extensive gardens were resplendent this sunny day in late April, with thousands of flowers in many varieties and colours, water features and sculptures - and he enjoyed taking his time returning to the stables, choosing the most beautiful route there with intention.

As he came to an open lawn framed with large shady trees and rose beds, he heard a jovial shout.

"Richard! Come! Join us!"

Henry, leaning casually on an elbow as he reclined in the grass, reached his free arm out towards his friend in invitation. He looked relaxed and carefree, dappled sunlight peppering his features as he grinned broadly. Richard could see why, as he rounded the curve of trees. His breath caught in his throat as a blanket covered with the remains of a splendid picnic and some freshly cut roses came into view, magnificently embellished with Henry's beautiful new wife of six months.

Catherine sat, a vision of beauty to Richard's adoring eyes – why must he fall so hard for someone so unreachable?! – with her hands folded in fine silk skirts of vibrant blue, her hair cascading over her shoulders in strawberry-gold curls accented by little flecks of sunshine. Her lips curved in a warm smile, and as she lifted her chin, her sapphire earrings twinkled in the light. God, Henry was a lucky man.

He was brought back to earth by a sudden chuckle.

"Has our presence startled you so much?!"

Fumbling with the reins, he averted his eyes from Henry's treasure hurriedly.

"Yes, I – uh, I was lost in thought, and didn't expect to cross paths with anyone." Richard feigned an easy laugh, "Looks like you've both enjoyed your afternoon! Any left for me?!" and he dismounted and roped his horse to a nearby tree.

"Have some wine my friend." Henry leaned over, pouring him a goblet of red wine. Richard took the goblet and drank from it gladly.

"There are some grapes and cheese left…" a soft voice suggested, and turning to Catherine, he accepted the offering from her hand, trying not to show how much it affected him when his fingertips brushed hers. He thanked her, and turned back to Henry, who was eyeing him with amusement.

"What amuses you so?!"

"Nothing, nothing," his friend dipped his head to sip his wine, "Just that you seem distracted lately, and I know what it is!" Richard would have choked on his own wine had it not been for the fact that Henry seemed delighted with his own discovery, so it couldn't be that he knew of Richard's feelings for his wife.

"Oh?" he ventured, with as much apathy as he could muster.

"Since Lady Christine set her sights on that Baron, you've been missing her company – am I right?"

"Well, er – I… it – she wasn't the lady for me, so it's of little consequence."

"Ahh, au contraire my friend, au contraire!" Henry smirked with an air of mystery to his smugness and sat up. "We've been friends forever – trust me, I know your thoughts!" He paused to sip again. "There are some nobles visiting tomorrow from Rouen, aaand… I have arranged for you to dine with the delectable Lady Jeanette, the day after her arrival!"

Richard's heart sank. Little did Henry know that he himself had put the distance between he and Christine, not the other way around, because he knew it was unfair to her to draw her interest when he could think only of Catherine, however inappropriate it was. He had no heart for anyone else, and he did not relish the thought of an arranged encounter with another young lady. Glancing at Catherine, he realised that he would have to be careful to appear uninterested, and that meant he must appear interested in other ladies. He straightened his shoulders and smiled.

"Thank you! How fortunate I am to have such an influential friend with my best interests at heart!" He clapped Henry on the shoulder and reached for the bottle of wine to refill his glass. "I can't wait to meet her."

He felt brave enough to give Catherine a friendly grin, and she dipped her head with her shy smile in return, caught off guard. Her sweet dimple flashed in her cheek, and a ringlet slipped over her shoulder and brushed across her collar bone. Watching her retrieve it and curl it absent-mindedly around her finger, he forgot everything else around him. She was more beautiful and captivating than anything he had ever seen – even the hundreds of roses and rhododendrons adorning the royal gardens beyond her seemed pale and colourless in comparison to the most perfect flower in the garden sitting before him.

He was thoroughly smitten.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The summer was warm and pleasant, and the days stretched long. Evenings for the young nobles were spent outside the castle walls, so enjoyable was the evening light and climate. Boating on the lake, evening picnics until dusk overtook them and the servants brought out lanterns to see by, walks among the gardens. Henry and Catherine appeared so happy and in love, that all of society around them seemed to take up the sentiment. Of course, the young royals were very sociable, and frequently invited the young men of the court and their ladies to join them in their evening pursuits.

Richard attended every event, naturally, as he was both the young Prince's best friend, and half of a romantic couple with the recently arrived Lady Jeanette. She had turned out to be bubbly and sweet, and very pretty, and Richard enjoyed her company very much – though she could never compare to Catherine in his eyes. He was determined, however, to put her out of his mind, as much as was possible with her being ever-present at the castle. The routine of court and the proximity of their circles meant that he saw Catherine every day, sometimes several times a day, and the challenge to forget her was great. She seemed to Richard more beautiful than she had ever been, now that she was so clearly in love. All of court celebrated the happy marriage between Catherine and Henry, and of course there was talk that any day now, there would be a joyous announcement of a new royal baby. The sparkle in her eyes and the way she radiated joy… Her smile, which was seen often now, genuine and pure, was breath-taking. Hearing her laugh was, to Richard at least, like hearing angels sing. She was harder to ignore than ever. Of course, Richard did not mean to actually ignore her, but rather to be cordial and friendly whilst distancing his heart from her. It was an almost impossible task, but he pressed on regardless.

This particular evening, after the boating fun, as the light began to fade, the grass was dotted with couples strolling, and small groups of young people relaxing together and laughing, before heading back to the castle. Jeanette, who had spent the evening by Richard's side, her hand laid gently on his forearm, had been persuaded to join two of her friends for a stroll around the lake, and he could see them now at the curve of the lake, picking blades of grass out of each other's hair and laughing. He smiled, watching them.

"Jeanette seems very nice."

Catherine's voice startled him. She had been with Henry only moments before, further up the grassy slope, but glancing back, Richard could see that he and his brother, Francis, were engaged in a rather serious-looking discussion. He assumed that Catherine must have decided to give them some space. He both loved and hated the fact that Catherine was so much more relaxed around him than she had been at first. Being Henry's closest friend, she spent a lot of time with Richard, especially over these summer months, and it was only natural that they should become accustomed to each other's company. She no longer averted her eyes or blushed when he spoke to her, and she had lost that shyness that had so charmed him at first. She was friendly, and a wonderful conversationalist, and impossible to talk to without being struck by her beauty in all her mannerisms. It was both a blessing and a curse to Richard.

He smiled at her briefly, letting his eyes wander back to the ladies at the lakeside.

"Yes," he ventured at length, "she is. I am very fortunate that Henry thought to introduce us while she is staying at court."

"Will she extend her stay, do you think? Henry was saying that he is sure that permanent accommodation can be found for her, should you… should you have reason for her to stay."

Richard shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. "I – I don't know. I hadn't thought about it really."

"You haven't?!" Catherine's tone was amused. "Don't you think about such things, about your future?!" She gave a little giggle and hugged her knees slightly, eyeing Richard with a sparkle in her eyes.

"I do, of course I do!" Richard attempted a light-hearted laugh, as he tried to avert his gaze from the sparkling eyes of the one lady that he truly longed to spend the rest of his life with, whose presence had consumed his thoughts these past months like nothing and nobody ever had before.

"I have to be certain, though, don't I? You're fortunate to have had no choice in the matter, and to have been well-matched."

Catherine hugged her knees to herself more tightly. "Yes, I have been fortunate indeed." She smiled contentedly, gazing out over the lake at the colours of the fading sunset reflected on the water. Richard watched her relaxed expression as she took in the view before her, the silence between them comfortable for the few minutes that it lasted, before she spoke again.

"Don't you sometimes wish you could just make time pause?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, look at this beautiful view!"

" _I am."_ thought Richard to himself, as he watched her.

"The colours… it was such a marvellous sunset tonight. Just everything about the scene, the smell of the air, the sounds of happiness around us – even the birds sound contented, don't you think?" She smiled and breathed deeply, as though trying to breathe in all that she rejoiced in around her. "This happy time in my life, and this scene. If I could make time stop, and bottle it to enjoy forever, whenever I wanted to…" Catherine stopped short and shook herself slightly, laughing. "You mustn't mind me – I should never have let Henry persuade me to have that last glass of wine!"

She stood and brushed grass from her skirts. Richard smiled at her.

"I am very happy for you and Henry."

His beloved smiled back at him. "Thank you, Richard. I wish you equal happiness in marriage – to whomever that might be!" she added mysteriously, with a purposeful glance at the ladies making their return towards them from the lakeside. Then, with a final fluff of her skirts, she wandered back to her husband.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN_ _: Thank you, thank you so much for my first review! After I posted my first two chapters, I was suddenly so nervous that nobody would like it, given that it's not a popular ship! I'm so encouraged that I'm posting chapter 3! :)_

 **Chapter Three**

"Word has it that there's trouble in paradise."

Jeanette relaxed against Richard's side as they finally settled themselves somewhere in the castle grounds where they had some privacy. Richard was glad she had decided to stay on last year, and truly enjoyed her company, though he had not yet summoned the courage to ask her to marry him. He could not quite trust his heart. He twisted to see her face, surprised by her statement.

"What do you mean?"

"Henry and Catherine. Don't you talk to Henry about these things?!"

"We talk about everything. What do you mean, trouble in paradise?"

Jeanette shrugged slightly, watching her fingers trace the design on the cuff of Richard's sleeve.

"Only that I was talking to Catherine this morning. She seemed… not quite herself. I thought perhaps she was with child and keeping it from everyone until they were ready to announce. Anyway, when I tried to prise it out of her, she – she snapped at me." She sighed and raised sad eyes at Richard. "I never knew she could have such a sharp temper, Richard! She told me I should mind my own business, and slammed the door on her way out!"

Richard felt quite sick at the thought of the lovely Catherine so tense and unhappy that she could lash out in such a manner. Something must be wrong – what could he have missed? It was true that he and Henry talked about anything and everything, but perhaps he had neglected to ask his friend more in-depth questions about his situation lately? It was no secret that 18 months into their marriage, the young royals had yet to conceive a child. As far as he could tell, Henry was not bothered by it in the least. He seemed much the same as always. Catherine, however, had begun to lose her sparkle, and it pained him to see it. He hadn't expected to hear of her short temper, though. He was seized with an urge to go immediately to talk to Henry, to try and find out what the problem was. Perhaps there would be a way he could help?

His thoughts were broken by smooth fingers tracing his beard.

"Richard?"

He turned his face to hers. She waited, questioningly, for his response.

"I'm sorry! Of course, she should never have treated you in that way. It – it bothers me that Catherine could behave in such a way. Towards you, I mean." He shifted uncomfortably, impatient to leave his lady. "Perhaps," he picked up her hand and kissed it languidly, "perhaps I could comfort you more effectively over dinner? Tonight, by the lake?" And he dropped his lips to her hand once more.

His lady giggled. "Oh Richard… you know, I don't think it's warm enough yet to dine by the lake!"

Turning her hand so that the inside of her wrist faced upwards, he kissed her there.

"Well in that case, perhaps we could dine in the walled garden? It's more secluded there… If you would release me to alert the kitchen to make preparations? How about seven o'clock?" He gave her his most alluring smile, hoping she would happily allow him to attend to his concerns over Catherine.

She gave another bashful giggle, and retrieved her hand from his.

"Of course, that sounds lovely. Thank you, Richard."

He stood, and turning, strode hastily across the lawns to the castle. He had to get to the bottom of what Catherine's unhappiness was about. He could not bear to see her troubled. Heading straight for Henry's chambers, his fast pace brought him to the doors in no time. He was about to raise his hand and knock, when he heard Henry's voice, raised and impatient, from inside the room. He stood still and listened.

"You said the same thing last time we spoke of this! I will NOT subject myself to the humiliation of some physician prodding at me, just because we haven't conceived a child yet! News travels fast in this castle, don't you know?!"

Then came Catherine's voice, tense and strained.

"Don't _I_ know?! I am already dealing with humiliation, Henry! Hasn't it occurred to you? It's all very well for you, but my very worth is at stake here. I have to provide you with an heir - "

"It has only been a year, Catherine! For goodness' sakes!"

"A year and a HALF, husband."

"Fine then, a year and a half. It truly isn't very long in the grand scheme of things. And it's not as though we need heirs for the throne of France." Henry's voice softened, and footsteps were heard within the room. Richard hoped his friend was crossing the floor to his wife, not walking away from her. "You worry too much, my love. It's not right to cause yourself so much tension over something – even this. Give it time, eh?"

There was a pause, and then Catherine's voice came again, quiet and subdued this time.

"Yes, but what IF, Henry… What if by some accident or divine intervention, the throne passes to you one day? What then? You would need an heir. Even without that level of responsibility, you deserve an heir." Richard thought he caught the sound of a soft sob. "And I can't help worrying… Why can't I give you a child? Something must be wrong, after all these months, whatever you say." Her words muffled, and Richard heard no more. He assumed that Henry must be comforting her, though his own arms ached to hold her in her time of distress, and he hoped he never again had to endure the pain of hearing such unhappy emotion in the voice of the woman he loved more than life itself.

Turning from the door, he began walking soberly towards the kitchens. He no longer needed to talk to Henry to find out the cause of Catherine's unstable mood. And there was nothing he could do to help. He had better just hope that Henry would comfort her well, and continue on his way to arrange dinner for his own lady later this evening.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN : Just throwing this event in there, to create a timeline. :) I assume Richard didn't know about Henry's involvement, and as it's from his point of view, you'll have to make your own conclusion as to Henry's reaction! I think this event must have been important in terms of the pressure on Catherine to produce an heir. Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews! I am so happy to read them! _

**Chapter Four**

"Call the court physician!"

Richard leapt to his feet, along with the rest of the spectators on the tennis court, as the Dauphin of France lay, apparently lifeless, crumpled on the ground. Gasps and cries filled the air, ladies clutched at the arms of their gentlemen, and several people rushed to the Dauphin's side. Richard glanced at his friend. Henry seemed frozen in place, shocked and pale.

"Henry? Henry! Come!" Richard grasped his friend by the shoulders and purposefully marched him to a nearby seat. He noticed that Henry's hands were shaking. The poor fellow, to witness such a shocking incident involving his own brother. He hoped that Francis had simply fainted, and would revive shortly. Keeping a firm, steadying hand on Henry's shoulder, he watched the physician arrive in a great flurry, and disappear behind a crowd of onlookers, attending to the young prince.

"I need to move the Dauphin to the castle immediately!" came the physician's deep and authoritative tone. Within moments, several strong young men were bearing the weight of the Dauphin's unconscious body back to the castle, heading for the royal infirmary. Henry had not yet spoken a word, and Richard could see that he was in great shock still. As he watched the men, he saw Catherine further afield, walking across the lawn towards the tennis court. She paused, and seeing the party moving hastily towards the castle, and her husband sitting motionless beside Richard, she broke into a run, even in her full skirts, to reach them.

"Henry! Good Lord!" she gasped breathlessly, "What happened?!"

Henry did not speak, or look up at her, and Richard mentally chastised himself for having not averted his eyes from Catherine quickly enough. He was genuinely worried for his friend, and this was hardly the moment to be caught off-guard by the way Catherine's lips and cheeks were redder than usual from her exertions, and the delightful curve of the top of her breasts as they threatened to heave out of the corseted gown they were confined in as she fought to catch her breath. _"NO."_ he said firmly to himself, as he tore his eyes from their glorious rise and fall. Returning his concerns to that of his friend, he spoke for Henry.

"Francis fainted, I believe. They have taken him to the infirmary. It was quite a shock."

Catherine knelt by her husband and laid her hand upon his knee.

"Henry? Was he tiring? Was it a strenuous match?"

Henry ran his hand shakily through his hair, and licked his dry lips, but didn't answer her. She threw an anxious glance at Richard.

"It was quite strenuous, yes. Francis seemed fine, though he did ask for a drink, so he must have been tired. He finished his water, and then simply collapsed. It was quite unexpected… Henry?"

His friend nodded, still staring out across the lawn towards the castle where his brother had been taken.

"Come," Richard took Henry's arm decisively, "Let us follow them, and see for ourselves how he is doing. I am sure the physician is taking good care of him. He fainted, that's all."

Catherine stood and went to Henry's other side, supporting her husband as he rose from the chair, and linking his arm with hers as the three of them made their way across the grounds.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard waited respectfully outside the infirmary, several days later, knowing that grave news of some sort was being given to the royal family inside. Prince Francis had not recovered as expected, and he wanted to be ready to support his friend as soon as he could find out the news. Shifting his feet further from the wall, he leaned against it to rest his legs a little. He had been waiting for almost an hour, and he was feeling restless. He brushed his fingers against the rough stone wall, feeling its texture, but snapped them back to his sides and stood straight as the door opened and King Francis and Queen Eleanor stepped out. The King looked grief-stricken, drawn, and smaller in stature than Richard remembered. He bowed respectfully as they passed him, though they didn't appear to see him at all. Eyes back on the door, Richard waited further.

At length, the Dauphin's siblings, Madeleine, Charles and Margaret, appeared from the doorway, and made their way down the corridor. Madeleine smiled sadly at Richard as they passed him, but they too seemed without words. When Henry and Catherine finally stood at the door, Catherine pulled it closed behind them. Henry stood as though a stone statue, and as he saw Richard move towards him, much to his friend's surprise and concern, he began to gasp and sob.

"My brother!" sobbed Henry, "He is dead!" And he clutched Richard's shoulder as though he could barely support his own weight.

"How can it be?!" breathed Richard, in shock. He had known that Francis was very ill, but he did not know that he had actually died.

"He is dead!" repeated his grief-stricken friend, "He is gone!"

Richard and Catherine hastily bore Henry to his chambers, where he sat dumb-founded on his chaise, scrubbing at his tear-stained face with a handkerchief like a small boy. Catherine called for hot drinks with herbs that she had been learning about, meant for soothing and restoring. Henry sipped his hesitantly, Richard gulped his down without really tasting it, and Catherine's remained untouched. She had been obviously concerned and attentive towards Henry, but now she looked fretful, even afraid, and Richard wondered why.

After perhaps an hour of sitting together, attempting to process the shock of the situation without words, Henry spoke, sounding stronger.

"I shall have to speak to Father about the proceedings." He stood, and walked slowly to the window. "The funeral…. We will be in mourning for some time."

Richard crossed the room and stood next to his friend.

"I will support you in any way I can," he offered, "You are the Dauphin of France now, my friend."

Henry turned to Richard and hugged him. "Thank you. I appreciate your support, as always."

"I will let you and Catherine to yourselves now, but you can send for me any time."

Richard turned to leave, and noticed Catherine was sitting on the edge of the bed now, fingers clutched together in her lap, staring at them intently. She looked tense and anxious, and he wished it would be appropriate for him to go and give her a hug too. He paused to see if Henry had noticed her. He had. Richard quietly walked to the door to give them some space.

"Catherine," spoke Henry softly, almost in disbelief, "We shall be King and Queen of France some day!"

As Richard opened the door, he heard her quiet, somewhat sullen response.

"What good is a King without an heir?"

Her husband huffed with annoyance and turned sharply away from her, looking again out of the window.

"I am serious, Henry. Three years, almost. And the situation that I feared has come upon us. Don't you think it's time to try what I suggested?"

Henry sounded almost angry with his wife, his tone strained and bitter, "This is not the time, Catherine. Do not pressure me!"

Catherine sighed, looking back at her hands in her lap, and Richard quietly closed the door on the couple.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The steady clash of swords rang out in the courtyard, as Henry and Richard leapt and lunged. Henry dodged behind a stone column and winced as his opponent's blade blunted against the unforgiving rock.

"You're improving!" he chuckled, leaping from behind the column to attack again.

A couple more minutes of impressive moves on both sides, and Richard's sword clattered to the ground, knocked from his hand by Henry's swordsmanship. Henry swaggered over and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"A worthy opponent, Richard!"

"Well done. You have me beat – again!" Richard knew how much Henry liked to win. It was helpful that he was never going to be as skilled a swordsman as Henry, but he enjoyed the challenge nonetheless.

The two young men handed off their swords and protective outerwear to the waiting servant, and strolled out into the grounds to walk off the tension in their muscles.

Months had passed since Prince Francis had been taken ill and died, and Henry and Catherine were now quite the focus of French court. Richard knew that things were not going well for them. He had heard the rumours – the royal couple spending less time together, and Catherine was still not pregnant. Some of the rumours made his blood boil, being that they were rather unkind about Catherine and her inability to produce an heir for the throne of France. There had even been rumours of the Dauphin turning to other women instead of Catherine. There seemed an unspoken tension between the two of them, from what Richard had noticed. He didn't often bring up the subject of Henry's relationship with his wife, but on this afternoon he decided to.

"How goes it with Catherine?" he asked casually.

"Eh?" Henry was brought out of his contented thoughts rather abruptly. "Oh, you know." He gestured exasperatedly with his hand, and reached out with it to pluck a willow switch from the tree they were passing under. Sweeping it back and forth in front of him absent-mindedly, he stayed silent.

"Things don't seem easy for you these days…" ventured Richard, "Or for Catherine."

Henry sighed. "Richard, when you were courting Jeanette, did you ever feel as though she was the one in charge of your relationship?"

Richard thought back. His courtship with Jeanette had not lasted much longer than a year. She _had_ begun to press him for more attention, but then he could hardly blame her, as his attention was very much elsewhere most of the time. He had ended their relationship, citing too great a focus on his duties as the reason behind it. It just wasn't fair to her. She would never measure up to Catherine, and she ought to be released to find a more attentive suitor, one who would make her happy and give her the attention she deserved. She had returned to Rouen not long afterwards.

"I suppose women are all the same," he sympathised, "Always wanting our time and attention, hey?"

"That's not the issue with Catherine, exactly. I just can't understand her!" He tossed his switch to the bushes in frustration. "She makes demands. She constantly presses me to do all these… _things_ , just for the sake of producing an heir."

"She is anxious about not being pregnant yet?"

"Yes, but – Richard, she's _obsessed_! She is sending me mad! And she should NOT be the one making all the demands and decisions here, I mean, I am the man, am I not? And the Dauphin of France, no less!" Henry sat down heftily on the grassy bank they had come to, crossing his ankles and resting his forearms on his knees at his chest. He picked at the grass distractedly. "And Catherine doesn't submit to my authority. She ought to, but she doesn't!"

"She certainly does have a feisty side!" laughed Richard, hoping to break the tension. He himself loved this hot-blooded side of Catherine that had been revealing itself over the past year or two. She was so spirited and fiery when she wanted to be, and he wondered how he could ever have thought of her as mild and shy, as he did when she was new to French court. Seeing that spark, even in anger or irritation, made his blood course through his veins that bit faster. Her colour would rise, and her eyes would flash, and God help him, she was gorgeous when she was impassioned about something! He shook himself mentally, and returned his mind to the matter at hand.

"She is pushing me away, Richard. I don't believe she has feelings for me as such, not any more. All she cares about is having a child, and perhaps I am of no greater value to her now than to sire offspring! I can do no right where she's concerned!" He tossed a handful of plucked grass down the bank, and leaned back with a sigh. "I'm getting tired of it. She makes me wish… I don't know…"

Richard looked up sharply at his friend. "Makes you wish what? I've heard the rumours. Are they true?"

"A man has needs, you know? It's not sex she's withholding from me – no, she needs that to get the child she's longing for – but the companionship. I can't be in the room with her without having to wade through the bitter air that surrounds us. It becomes tiresome. Even the sex is little fun without the pressure to achieve something from it all the time. Sometimes – sometimes I want to seek a woman who will meet my needs without the tiresome atmosphere."

Richard did not know what to say. He could not believe his friend would seek any woman other than Catherine, although he heard and understood what he had said, that there was uncomfortable tension between them.

"I heard Diane de Poitiers is back at court," he said flatly, "Is that your doing?"

"Yes," Henry admitted, "To be honest with you Richard, I have been seeing Diane for some time, but it has been awkward having to leave court to travel and see her. So it made sense to bring her here."

"Officially, you mean? As your mistress?"

"Well, what am I to do?!" Henry slapped the ground and stood abruptly.

"I don't know. I didn't mean to accuse."

"I know you didn't. You don't know how Catherine's been lately. Diane is like – like a breath of fresh air. Perhaps I'll be a better husband for having her here – relieve the tension, you know?"

"What does Catherine say on the matter?"

"We haven't spoken of it yet. It's another conversation I'm rather dreading."

He sighed and the two of them began strolling back towards the castle. They walked in silence, with nothing much more to say. Richard felt shocked at the news. Not for his friend, but because he could not stop thinking about it from Catherine's point of view. She deserved so much better than to be betrayed in such a way. How could Henry not see what a treasure he had?! Anger began to bubble up inside him, and he bit it back. It would not do to let Henry see the strength of his feelings, because they could be traced back to Catherine. That would not do at all.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The next evening, a great banquet was held for some visiting dignitaries. Henry and Catherine arrived together, but quickly parted to greet and converse with groups of people on opposite sides of the room. Richard noticed the heads turn and the whispers begin amongst some of the less discrete nobles of French court.

When it came time for the meal, he discovered that Diane had been seated opposite Henry, where she exchanged glances and occasional smiles with him across the table throughout the meal. He could hardly bear it for poor Catherine, who looked at first as though she might like to reach across the table and behead the older woman with her butter knife, but as the evening wore on, she began to look more and more flushed and miserable, observing the exchanges between Diane and her husband, who was seated next to her. This was so unlike Catherine in a public setting, that it hurt Richard to see the depths of her unhappiness. He felt protective of her too, for he wished he could shield her pain from the prying, unkind eyes of all French Court. He wished too that he had been seated on Catherine's side of Henry, so that he could distract her with conversation, but alas, he was too far from her, and would have had to cut across Henry to talk to her in any case. At length, he managed to catch her eye, and gave her a warm smile. In response, Catherine smiled back, less brilliantly than usual, but she lifted her chin and seemed to clothe herself anew with an air of dignity despite her situation. Richard felt such admiration for her at that moment.

Greatly relieved at the evening finally drawing to a close, Richard began making his way through the crowded room, wanting to show some kindness to Catherine before retiring to his chambers. Beyond the groups of nobles, talking and laughing amongst themselves, he scanned the room for Catherine. He saw Henry, standing next to the lavish display of flowers at the side of the great hall they had been dining in. At his side was Diane de Poitiers, and Richard pushed down a swell of disgust at the sight of her somewhat covertly running her hand down the back of his upper arm, and lingering a moment at his elbow. Henry was greatly at ease, laughing and talking with friends and obviously comfortable with Diane's subtle display of intimacy.

Richard stopped short as he saw Catherine striding towards them, her eyes flashing and her arms tense. He held his breath, not knowing what would take place.

"A word, Henry!"

A hush fell over the group as Catherine's eyes locked angrily with Henry's, before she turned sharply and left the room. Henry, slightly embarrassed by his wife's brief display, made his apologies to the group of friends and followed her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Doing his best to pretend he was diverting inquisitive people from the walled garden on behalf of his friend, Richard knew he was doing it entirely for Catherine's sake. Standing in the crisp November air in front of the archway, it seemed that at every moment, somebody appeared who just happened to be wondering if they had left their cloak, or who felt they might just want to take a stroll in the very location where everybody knew the Dauphin and Dauphine had removed themselves to, after they had exited the banquet with such an air of animosity.

After a few minutes of fending these people off, they stopped appearing. Richard was able to attend to his own anxious thoughts at last. He had never seen Catherine so incensed before – not just hurt, but angry too. He knew she must have seen Diane's attention to her husband, just as Richard had seen himself. And now they were in the garden, arguing. He felt anguished and helpless, catching the sound of their raised voices. He moved through the archway into the garden, and leaned against a tree whose leaves lay darkly against the soil in the flickering light of the torches attached to the stone walls. He could not see Henry and Catherine, but he could hear their conversation more clearly from where he was. He had not meant to eavesdrop, but he couldn't bear the waiting and not knowing whether Catherine was alright.

" _Treat her well, Henry, treat her well_ …" was all he could think in his mind as he kept as still as possible.

A pause had taken place in the heated discussion between the young royals, but now it resumed once more.

"How do you think it makes me feel, Henry?!"

"You're making your feelings fairly obvious, so this must be a trick question."

"SHE WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU! IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY!" A huff of frustration. "And you didn't think to show disdain, or distance yourself from her, at such an occasion?!"

"Catherine, Diane is here for me. I summoned her to court for me."

Richard heard Catherine breathe in sharply. There was a silence, and then she spoke in an odd, throaty tone; deeper, heavier, and quieter than before.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I have taken Diane as my mistress, and I intend for her to stay at court permanently."

Catherine gave a hollow laugh, and commented sarcastically, "Well this will _really_ help us in our efforts to provide France with an heir! Good thinking, Henry!"

Henry responded in an instant, angry at her mocking remark. "IT'S YOUR OBSESSION WITH AN _HEIR_ THAT HAS BROUGHT US TO THIS PLACE!" he shouted. "You have changed, Catherine." He sighed. "You have pushed me away. You have pushed me into the arms of someone who would find no fault in me."

Richard seethed at the selfishness of his best friend. How could he say such a thing to Catherine, who must feel so betrayed and alone right now?! He held his breath, anxious for a sound from his favourite. He couldn't bear for her heart to be broken, and it undoubtedly had been. She did not speak, and it was Henry who spoke again next.

"I feel – I think it would be wise for us to live separately, for a time at least. Still husband and wife, of course, in as much as our royal duties demand it of us. That will include continuing to try to have a child. I'm sorry it has come to this, Catherine, but I feel it is for the best."

"For the best?!" Catherine's voice sounded ragged and hoarse, "For the best?! You cannot be serious about this! You would throw away all that we have, just to have some - some _WHORE_ stroke your ego?!" Her anger was back. "Is this truly for the good of France, or just something to satisfy your selfish desires?! What am I to do with this situation?!"

"Don't speak to me of selfish desires, Catherine!" Henry's deep voice cut the cold air angrily. "What do you desire these days other than to satisfy your own needs?! There is no affection, no companionship – all you want from me is a child, and I am weary of such a marriage! Let me find solace in the arms of someone who desires to meet MY needs."

Catherine sounded hurt and confused as she chose her reply carefully. "I – I _do_ desire to meet your needs…"

"No, you don't. You are deceiving yourself if you believe that. You desire offspring, for your own protection, and little else. If that isn't an antidote to a happy marriage, I don't know what is."

Richard stiffened as he heard shuffling movements – one of the two of them was undoubtedly getting up to leave, and he did not want to be caught listening in the archway. But before anything could happen, Catherine spoke up sharply.

"Fine. Let your whore meet your needs, since I clearly have no further say in the matter." Her tone was angry and laced with sarcasm, as she added, "You know where I am if you want to fulfil your duty at any point in the future."

Richard scurried hastily through the archway and into the covered entrance of the castle, where he tried to look unconcerned and casual, in time for Henry to stride tempestuously out of the walled garden and spot his friend.

"Richard," he muttered darkly, "Come. Drink with me."

And Richard was swept along to the dining hall where the wine still flowed, though longing to remain at the garden to see if he could comfort Catherine. He hated leaving her alone after such an upsetting fight with Henry, and after the things that his friend had revealed to her, but he must not arouse suspicion, so he went willingly with Henry, and rounded up a few lively noblemen along with the wine to help his friend in his drinking quest.

It was a full half hour later that he was able to excuse himself from the party of laughing, significantly more merry men, and attempt to find out what had become of Catherine.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Where on earth could she be?! And should he even be pursuing her like this?! He felt as though his feet were propelled against his will, by some sort of insanity. He had done his best to give the appearance of drinking as much as the others in the dining hall, without actually doing so. He wanted his wits about him. Richard had enquired at Catherine's chambers already, but was told that she had not returned from the banquet. It did not occur to him at first that she may perhaps have remained at the walled garden, but, having eliminated all the other locations where he had thought she might be, he decided to return to the garden.

Passing through the archway where he had overheard the unhappy conversation between Henry and Catherine, he entered the garden. The light was dim, being that it was long past sunset, but torches flickered here and there along the castle walls to give a little light. He stood still, wondering which way to go first. Perhaps to the water fountain? His breath came fast and foggy on the cold night air. Picking up his pace a little, he padded softly in the direction of the fountain. Approaching it, he could already see that Catherine wasn't there. The sense of urgency to find her increasing, he turned left through some flower beds, heading for the row of young fruit trees that had been planted in the year of her marriage to Henry. But he stopped short, still a fair way from the trees, when he heard something beyond the bushes to his right. Stepping up close, and parting the leaves gently, he peered through.

There, sitting on the stone bench in front of the beautiful autumnal tones of the reddened ivy that climbed the walls of the garden here, he saw Catherine. She was crying and, going by the evidence of her puffy eyes and pink cheeks, she had been crying for some time. She looked broken, to Richard, as though she had begun angry, and the tears had gradually drained away all her fire and spark, and left her empty. His heart broke with hers, and he longed to hold her. Thankfully she was not alone – one of her ladies-in-waiting must have been alerted and come to meet her needs – she had draped Catherine with a fur robe, and was hovering anxiously over her. Irritated, Catherine shooed her away with a wave of her hand, and the lady retreated back to the castle.

Without another thought, Richard made his way around the bushes to Catherine. She didn't even look up, but simply uttered, "I said leave me, Beatrice."

Richard cleared his throat, standing a little way in front of her. She looked up sharply, and when she saw him, her expression softened into one of tired curiosity at his presence, her sweet mouth forming a little 'o', silently questioning why he was there. Her eyes followed him as he walked towards her and sat beside her on the bench, tears marking her cheeks still, but no longer falling.

He didn't know what to say to her. He felt suddenly as though he had a reason to be guilty, not only for invading her privacy, but as though for being Henry's closest friend, he was as guilty as Henry, and that she would feel that he too had betrayed her heart. As though sensing his thoughts, Catherine looked down at her hands.

"You knew? About Henry and Diane?"

"Yes." Richard's voice barely broke a whisper. Catherine sighed, a long, shuddery, weary sound. She didn't say anything.

"I'm so sorry."

Catherine's eyes snapped to Richard. "You're sorry? For what?"

"For – because… I don't mean to be disloyal to Henry, but I can't stand to see him treat you like this. I'm sorry he has hurt you. You don't deserve that."

Catherine observed him with wide eyes in the silence. They were so close to each other that even in the flickering light, Richard could see the rich honey tone of her eyes, and the way her wet eyelashes clung to one-another. He longed to reach up and use the soft pad of his thumb to wipe away the remnant tears that still wetted her cheeks beneath those beautiful eyes, but he did not. She was waiting for him to explain himself, and he knew that if he didn't pull himself together, he might lose the ability to speak to her ever again, such was the effect she had on him.

Richard looked down, and picked up her hand, cold from resting on the stone bench, and spoke softly.

"I just wanted to let you know that, although I'm Henry's friend, I am also yours. I do not share Henry's perspective. I – I am here for you, if you need a friend."

Catherine looked at his hand wrapped protectively around her smaller one, and then back at his face.

"Thank you Richard," she said with gratitude, and gave him a watery smile. Richard smiled back at her, raising her hand to his lips to kiss it briefly, before standing.

"Now, may I escort you to your chambers, m'lady?" He bowed graciously.

The breathiest of laughs from his treasure. "Yes, you may, kind sir."

She stood and, looping her hand over his forearm, they walked back through the empty corridors to Catherine's chambers. Richard hated the idea of Catherine's reputation being tarnished by Henry's hurtfulness, or that people would talk unkindly about her unhappiness that evening. He had wanted to escort her in order to protect her from prying eyes, and he was thankful that they came across nobody on their route except for a servant girl bustling along with her head down.

At the doors to her chambers, Catherine turned to face Richard. She looked tired and flushed, but stronger, somehow.

"Thank you," she said, and smiled a real smile that lit Richard's heart. "I appreciate your kindness this evening."

"Any time." Richard responded. And he meant it. Day or night, any hour, he would gladly drop everything, miss sleep, incur consequences for tardiness, ANYTHING for Catherine. He watched her door close behind her, and rubbed his face with his hand.


	7. Chapter 7

_AN : I really wanted to work things into my story that have been mentioned in Reign, especially from that scene with Catherine and Henry in Inquisition (Season 1, Episode 11) where they argue and then kiss. Soooo many clues from the past in that scene! She mentioned the time that he had Diane pointedly in his lap during the meeting with the German ambassador, so I wanted to be sure to include that. I know this story isn't drawing much interest but I have so enjoyed writing it, and I hope it will be enjoyable to read as the story builds more._

 **Chapter Seven**

The weeks passed into months with Diane at Henry's side most of the time, but the talk of French Court was Catherine, who was struggling to adjust to her new situation. Richard knew that she hated the fact that her private troubles were announced for all to know by her husband, and that all eyes were on her every time Diane appeared with Henry, to see what her reaction would be. At first, her feelings were quite clear on the matter, for she would cope with banquets and public settings with obvious difficulty, unable to help herself giving venomous looks in Diane's direction. People were unkind about her jealousy, even though it was a natural and just reaction to Henry's adultery, and Richard hated it for her.

Over time, she improved the walls she had been building around herself, and it became less and less obvious as to how she felt when thrown into a difficult public situation. Now, instead of complaining that the Dauphine was jealous and vengeful, society seemed bent on bemoaning Catherine's lack of feeling. Poor Catherine! Richard wished she didn't have to be so harshly observed – she simply couldn't win.

Her friendship with Richard blossomed during this time, and she appeared to accept his offer of companionship. Certainly, she seemed to need it, for she had very few friends at court, and likely none that she truly trusted. Henry apparently ignored her completely at this stage, focusing all his attention on Diane, and visited her but once or twice a month to fulfil his duty of trying to conceive an heir for the throne of France.

Henry knew of Catherine's friendship with Richard, but since they had been part of the same circle of friends since Catherine's arrival, there was nothing out of place about it. Richard was careful not to give away any sign of his true feelings for Catherine, and simply remarked to Henry that they had similar interests in common and he enjoyed her company.

If Richard and Catherine came across each other in the castle or in the gardens, they would take a walk together for a while, and talk light-heartedly. They sometimes played games - cards and chess, which Catherine enjoyed but did not get to play often, since she did not often have company. Richard had numerous possible companions to join him in such entertainments, but he forwent them without a backward glance for the chance to spend time with Catherine.

Catherine had chosen to study poetry over the years since she had arrived in France, and she loved the arts with a passion. Richard, too, appreciated the arts, and learned a lot from Catherine as they talked on their walks. If he came across her studying poetry in the library, he would sit down and join her, and they would learn together.

Once, Richard arrived back to his chambers mid-morning, to discover a note pushed under his door from Catherine! She asked that he join her before lunch for an impromptu archery contest in the courtyard, and they had enjoyed a very amusing hour of testing their skills as a result. Catherine won of course – Richard was delighted to discover how many things she had a talent for. He would sometimes lie in bed at night and recall the wonderful sound of her laughter from that time. She seemed happy, and that was a rare thing outside of their friendship. He kept her note tucked under his mattress, so that he could always bring a smile to his face by pulling it out to look at, any time he wanted to.

Richard enjoyed every moment of the time he spent in Catherine's company. He loved her intelligence, and her sense of humour; the way her eyes shone when she defeated him at a game or contest, and the glow that came over her beautiful face when she immersed herself in the arts. He felt that he could be content to spend the rest of his life in her presence.

In the spring, the German ambassador came to French Court to discuss the particulars of the trade agreement between France and Germany. The King was increasingly keen for his son and heir to be involved in the ruling of the country, and sometimes delegated certain official tasks to Henry, or chose to have him present at meetings and events that the King oversaw. To this end, he had arranged for Henry to conduct the meetings with the German ambassador regarding their trade agreement. Henry was quite confident about such a discussion, having participated in these sorts of meetings with his father before, and chose some of his noble friends as additional advisors for the first of these sessions, including Richard. The King insisted that Catherine should be present also, for she would be beside Henry ruling as Queen one day, and it would be good for her to be exposed to these things.

To make the meeting more agreeable and relaxed, it was to be held after a shared dinner one evening. Catherine and Henry arrived together, as it was an official engagement, and the meal went very smoothly. Afterwards, everyone retired to another room, lit comfortably with many candles and a large roaring fire. They relaxed on the various chaises and comfortable chairs for an informal discussion over the terms, around a low table.

"Herr Wechsler!" Henry gestured amiably towards the German ambassador. "How have you been enjoying our fine wine since our trading agreement began?"

"Very well, thank you. Our country is glad of the agreement, and we are pleased to increase our trading with you for our mutual benefit."

The man settled himself comfortably in a chair. Richard glanced at Catherine. She was seated on the chaise nearest to the fire, her face cast in golden light as she looked across at Henry. From his position, Richard admired her profile. He had truly never seen one so beautiful in his life before.

As he watched her, he thought about the walk they had shared the day before. Catherine had had a heated exchange with Henry again, a common occurrence these days, and Richard had been happy to let her speak of her anger and her frustrations over her husband, as they sauntered along the lakeside. She loathed Diane, and had told Henry as much, fairly insulting his choice of mistress, and his smug response had infuriated her. There was little that Richard could do for Catherine about her circumstances, but he was glad to provide a friendly ear, and she seemed to appreciate being able to talk about it.

She turned her head slightly as Henry caught her eye, and lifted her chin with a hint of indignance. Richard almost smiled at the determined curve of her chin, and the sweet tip of her nose – he really seemed to feel more affectionate towards her with each day that passed. Shaking himself mentally, he looked away, just in time to see Diane slinking over to where Henry sat. Henry turned, smiling at her approach, and reached out his arm, grasping her wrist and pulling her in an almost playful manner to his side. He seated her right in his lap. Richard almost gasped aloud. It was hardly the place for such behaviour, and he was sure, going by the infuriating expression on Henry's face, that he was doing it purely to get under Catherine's skin. Diane, as always, was happy to be involved.

"Have you met Diane de Poitiers?" Henry asked the ambassador, good-naturedly.

The man looked uncomfortable, and after a flick of a glance at Catherine, whom he knew must not be happy with the situation, he uttered, "Uh, no my lord, I have not had the pleasure." He nodded respectfully in greeting, and Diane's lips curved in a smile of approval.

"She makes my work much easier," Henry added with a laugh. "She keeps my mind clear and relaxed, so that here I am able to discuss things so productively with ambassadors such as yourself!" He smiled, giving Diane a squeeze with his arms around her. She squirmed playfully in his lap, and he beamed around at the company in the room. Richard looked at Catherine, as did many others in the room, unfortunately for her. She would not meet Henry's gaze when it fell on her, and remained admirably regal and dignified in her appearance. Looking over at the ambassador, she spoke, her voice rich and steady.

"Herr Wechsler," she inquired of him, "Do you enjoy poetry?"

The ambassador sat back, visibly relieved at both the distraction and the assurance that the Dauphine of France was unperturbed by her husband's inappropriate behaviour. "Yes," he replied, "I do!"

Catherine smiled at him. "Then I would greatly value your help in translating a poem that I came across in the library this afternoon. I believe it is about the German landscape, and having never been there, I would like very much to read about it. I hear that your country is very beautiful."

The man smiled at her compliment, "Indeed it is. I shall be only too glad to translate the poem, perhaps tomorrow afternoon before my departure?"

Catherine stood from her seat elegantly, the picture of diplomatic charm. She gave the ambassador a warm smile. "Thank you, I appreciate it."

She looked up at the other occupants of the room, avoiding glancing at Henry with his lapful of Diane. "Well, gentlemen, if you would excuse me? It's been a long day. Good night." Her glance lingered at Richard, just for a moment. He almost felt as though it was purposeful, as though she was asking him to follow her, but he couldn't be sure. He watched her leave, and then excused himself quietly as the conversation in the room picked up again.


	8. Chapter 8

_AN : Okay, I need your help! I need to re-title my story, because I was just browsing through the stories of one of my favourite fanfic authors, Lina Oso, and found that she has one called "For The Love Of A Prince"! I have it on my favourites list even, lol! I can't believe I titled mine so similar without remembering hers. So I want to change the title, maybe just a little, or maybe completely. I just can't think of a new one! Help?! _

_Longer chapter this time, but it's a pivotal moment in their story! :)_

 **Chapter 8**

"Who does he think he is?!" Catherine seethed as she stalked angrily down the corridor.

"He thinks he's the Dauphin of France." Richard had meant to help, but as soon as he had formed the words, he knew it had been a mistake.

She reeled round to face him, stopping in her tracks, too angry to be rational right now.

"Oh, you're a great help! Go back to your friend and stop patronising me!"

"Catherine – Catherine, I didn't mean - " he started after her.

"NO! I have had enough tonight!"

Richard caught her wrist before she was out of his reach at her chamber doors. She snatched it back, her eyes flashing at him angrily, daring him to have the audacity to detain her any longer. He faltered, suddenly struck almost dumb by her beauty in her fiery state.

"Please, I'm sorry. Henry's being an idiot, and Dauphin or not, he should not be treating you so disrespectfully. Forgive me."

Catherine's countenance softened slightly, but her stance remained defensive. She didn't make to leave, and for that Richard was grateful. He struck a more light-hearted tone, hoping to ease his way back into her good grace.

"Come, how can I make you feel better? Wine? Snakes in Henry's bed? Hmmm?"

She giggled a little, eyes still trying to maintain their disapproval, but failing to disguise their amused twinkle. Richard ventured another suggestion.

"How about we look through your odd book of potions and concoct a hair tonic that causes balding?" A snort of laughter rewarded that one. "Or would you like to take up the less risky challenge of attempting to beat me at a game of chess?"

Catherine's eyes twinkled at him, her mood considerably improved, and she nodded, reaching to open the door to her chambers.

"I will take that challenge, but be prepared for defeat. And yes, definitely wine."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Check!" Richard watched to see what she would do.

"You know, I did foresee that move." Her slender fingers moved to counter Richard's rook, as her lips twitched in a mischievous smile. She sipped at her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass, waiting for him to make his move, and then she moved in for the kill.

"Checkmate." Smiling triumphantly, she sat back against the plush back of the chaise, pleased with herself.

"Ah. Well I certainly didn't foresee _that_ move!" Richard was always gracious in defeat. Looking up at her, he wondered what he had said wrong. Catherine was staring off into the distance, an unhappy look on her face.

"What is it?"

She sighed. "I didn't foresee Henry's move either," she said sadly. "I had no idea it would be like this."

Richard rounded the little table and came to sit beside Catherine on the chaise.

"Hush, Catherine… don't think about him any more tonight. It will only upset you." In the awkward silence that followed, he added lightly, "And after I've worked so hard to ensure you a happy victory as well!"

He laughed softly, but Catherine did not join in. She seemed not to hear him, and instead turned to face him and leaned forward intently, her eyes searching his out urgently.

"Tell me, Richard, am I deluding myself? Have I done so wrong in pressing him about having a child? What would you do?! I mean, I am trying to save myself – what will become of me if I don't provide the future King of France with an heir?!"

"I don't think you've done wrong at all."

"Henry says I'm obsessed to the point of insanity over it. I can't understand his pig-headed stubbornness and ignorance! Isn't it obvious that it's a necessity? And something that could become a life-or-death situation for me?!"

Richard nodded, listening. Catherine was becoming more agitated, he could tell by the way she sat so tensely and twisted her fingers together as she talked. It made him ache, but he listened.

"He last came to my chambers three weeks ago, and I'm not pregnant." She looked down at her hands, sadly. "I don't know what to do."

Richard was so moved by her countenance that he impulsively picked up her hands in his own. He didn't know what to say, but he was desperate to make her feel better about her situation. He hated that she was beginning to regard her precious self with displeasure, as though she was failing in some way.

"There's a man in a village a few hours ride from here, who is very knowledgeable in… natural ways to help a woman conceive." Catherine's voice faltered. "I – I've done everything that the court physician suggested, but…"

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Catherine. Not for anything."

She looked up at him, unshed tears in her eyes.

"It's not your fault – for all we know, it could be Henry's, and nothing to do with you! And you are not to blame for the heartless way he's treated you. Bringing Diane back to court… and the way he acted with her tonight. I don't know what got into him. He should have been more patient with you. He should never have put you aside, it was wrong of him." He squeezed her hands gently. "You are NOT to blame."

Catherine sighed, tears spilling over and down her cheeks. She took a shaky breath in.

"It's just that… it's harder because – because I love him." The tears fell faster. "If I didn't love him, it wouldn't be nearly so hard to bear being put aside and shunned for another." She gave a sob. "But I do."

Richard did his best to comfort her, hardly able to stand her unhappiness. Put him on the rack in the dungeon, but he could not bear to see Catherine de Medici cry. He threw caution to the wind, and put his arms around her, pulling her in close to lean against him. She came willingly, too overtaken by emotion to consider anything other than being comforted at that moment. She lay her forehead against the pulse of his neck, her cheek against the textured fabric of his shirt, and wept, her tears wetting his clothing. Richard's heart pounded as he held her – he worried that she would certainly hear it and be alarmed, but she didn't appear to notice. She felt so right in his arms, such a perfect fit. Everything about her was perfect. The softness of her hair against his skin, and the way it smelled. Her small hands laid against his chest. Her eyes and her lips and her sweet little nose, and the way they lifted when she laughed – even the way they looked when she cried. He felt bad about enjoying being so close to her when she was so distraught.

He held her even after her sobs subsided and she took her hands from his chest to wipe her face. He would have held her forever if she'd let him. After a time, she sat up straighter, pulling back from Richard a little.

"I'm sorry, Richard."

"What on earth for?!"

"For having such a moment of weakness, and for taking advantage of your kindness like this. It must be the wine." She would not look at him.

" _Cath-_ erine," his tone told her how foolish he thought her concern was. "That's what friends are for. Don't be silly. What is a little moment of weakness between friends when you are the strongest woman in French Court?"

Catherine looked up at him suddenly, surprised at this remark.

"Strong?!" she almost laughed out loud. "Tough, maybe. You have to be tough to survive at French Court, it seems." She shook her head. "No-one must see through your tough exterior, and there are far too many chinks in mine."

Richard waited quietly. He was well aware that this was a great privilege – to be considered trustworthy of such intimate revelation by a woman who kept her armour up at all times. Listening to Catherine was something he treasured, for the true gift that it was.

"Richard, you have no idea. Nobody does. I am not strong, not really… I have to keep telling myself who I am and what I deserve, because I am the only one who will build myself up, and give myself confidence. But it becomes a struggle when I receive the opposite message from everybody else here. I know the rumours about me, I know I am not well liked." She sighed, pausing for a moment. "I can ignore most of French court – I like them as little as they like me. But people who matter to me… people I love… Apparently there is nobody who values me."

"I value you." Richard picked up her hand and gave it a little squeeze. She smiled, her dimple showing sweetly, although her unhappiness was evident.

"I know you do. You have been very sweet to me, and I'm grateful for a friend in this place."

Richard took a deep breath, nervous of what he might say next, such was the surge of love for her that swelled up inside him at that moment.

"At the risk of incurring Henry's wrath… Please – please, come to me every time Henry leaves you feeling this way. You need someone who values you, to counter other people's destructive influence. I don't want that to crush you…. You – you are too special."

He looked down, afraid he had said too much. Catherine looked at him for what felt like an eternity, as though she was thinking, and he didn't dare to meet her eyes. Finally she spoke, softly, and with uncertainty.

"You don't think I am unlovable?"

Richard tried to place his words carefully, "No. I don't."

"Henry makes me feel as though I am." It sounded more like a question than a statement.

"He's wrong. He's a blind fool." Now he'd done it, he was sure of it. There was a long pause. He could hear Catherine breathing, but he still didn't dare to look at her. He tried to rectify his overstep.

"I think perhaps Henry has lost sight of what's important, that's all."

"How so?" The air in the room seemed too close to breathe properly.

"Just that – well, if – if he can't see wh-what he's got…" Richard swallowed and tried again, "If a man has the – the most beautiful flower in the garden, and he – he can't even see it. If he is blind to it, and chooses a weed over in the grass instead - " He turned uncertain eyes up to look at her, afraid of what he might see.

She seemed paler than before, but her eyes shone gratitude.

"You think that?"

"I do."

"You think Henry has made a mistake? That he might love me after all?"

Richard exhaled the last of his resolve. It was too much effort to keep it in any longer, after all these years.

"I can't speak for Henry, or his feelings. I can only tell you that I can't imagine any man in his right mind who doesn't love you. He must have made a mistake – that's the only way I can explain it. What kind of fool shuns Catherine de Medici?!" All the frustration and anger that he had been forced to keep under the surface for so long, bubbled up fiercely. "I love Henry like a brother, but the man's a damn fool! He's been handed the whole world, and he's just TOSSED it away! What the hell is he thinking? I can't stand what he's doing to you – I _hate_ it, Catherine. If he loved you like I - "

Richard broke off suddenly, realising what he had said. He looked warily at Catherine. She looked astonished – lost for words. When she found them again, they were barely more than a whisper.

"You _love_ me?"

He turned to her, urgently. Now there was nothing left to lose, except for perhaps his head, but his heart ruled him now, not his head.

"I'm so sorry! It was never my intention, but you stole my heart," he gave a short laugh at himself. "It's all your fault. If you weren't so beautiful that evening that Henry introduced you to French court, or such captivating company… I had no choice in the matter. I fell in love with you instantly, and you've had my heart ever since. You are - " He sighed, temporarily lost for words. "You are everything to me. You're all I could ever want, and yet I can't – I could never… But yes, I do. I love you, Catherine de Medici."

"And all this time – all these years, befriending me…"

"I never sought anything from you, Catherine, not ever. Please believe me! I wanted to be a friend to you because I loved you, because I couldn't bear to see you hurt, and at least if I was a friend to you, I could do something to help in some way, to ease your pain. I had no other motives, I swear to you. I intended that no soul should ever find out – do you think I want to lose my head?!" Richard ran his fingers through his hair with agitation. "I will never act on it, I promise you. You don't have to worry about me making advances towards you! I love you too much to act on it, when it could compromise you in any way. I will always be your friend, and you can trust me to put your wellbeing ahead of anything and everything. That's how love should be."

Summoning the courage to look Catherine in the eye, Richard turned to face her on the chaise, and in an instant her hand was on his cheek. Her sudden movement caught him so by surprise that he held his breath. What was she doing?! He searched her eyes, which were searching his own. Time stood still. She was so close – he had never been that close to someone before, not like this. He could feel her breath on his chin, see the smallest details of her eyelashes.

Then, without warning, she leaned in and kissed him. Soft and sweet. Richard didn't know if he was breathing or not, but he felt like he had enough oxygen never to need air again. His lips felt like they were home against hers, as though their connection was meant to be. The kiss was gentle but lingering, and when she pulled away, he tried to force his mind to wade through the mix of confusion and bliss, and understand what just happened. Thankfully, before he was anywhere near able to formulate words, Catherine spoke.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" She put both hands to her mouth, and averted her eyes from him. "I can't believe I did that. I'm so sorry. I don't know why…" and she turned her face away in shame.

"I'm not sorry," offered Richard. He wished his voice hadn't sounded so high-pitched and hopeful, because he truly didn't hope for anything from Catherine – he was mostly just feeling confused. She turned to face him again.

"I didn't mean that. I'm not sorry either. I think – I think I just suddenly… You know, it's that I trust you so. Your kindness, your very heart engenders such a feeling of trust, and that's a wonderful thing." She smiled, and then continued, "I don't know what I was thinking. I just wondered what it would feel like to kiss someone who truly loved me unconditionally, with all their heart. It was stupid of me, forgive me."

"Of course." Richard smiled encouragingly back at her, hoping that there would be no detrimental effect on their friendship, as he couldn't bear to have to distance himself from her now.

"I hope there will be no awkwardness? I do so value our friendship…"

Richard tried not to show how relieved he felt hearing this, as he spoke. "Absolutely not! It will be business as usual tomorrow!" He grinned at her. "I hope that it has simply served to help you feel you have someone truly on your side, always." He placed his hand on hers. "I really mean that."

"Thank you. I can't tell you what it means to me." Catherine looked down at their hands. "And I- I do apologise once again - "

"Catherine, it really isn't necessary. Say no more about it." He patted her hand, and stood. "Would you mind very much if I retired to my chambers? I can stay longer if you wish, but tomorrow a group of us are leaving particularly early for a ride. I have no idea why I agreed to such a ridiculous hour!"

"You're sure there are no bad feelings?" she looked worried.

"None at all."

"Then alright. Take care not to fall off your horse half-asleep in the morning!" How he loved her cheeky giggle. The light-hearted moment broke the ice and made everything feel better, as though the revelation and the kiss had never happened. Perhaps everything would stay as it always had been.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you so much for the reviews! This is exactly why I wrote this story, because I love Catherine so much and I know Richard did too. I wanted her to have that unconditional love, and to get to "give" her that through writing Richard's point of view. :) Richard is me, too, Issi._

 **Chapter 9**

"Watch out for that branch!"

Richard barely missed it, as he quickly urged his horse to the right so that he could lean far enough away to avoid been knocked out of his saddle. Henry laughed at him.

"Are you _sure_ you're safe to ride with us this morning, Richard?! You're half-asleep! What's the matter with you, man?!"

"I'm fine, Henry. I didn't sleep well last night, that's all." He yawned widely.

Henry chuckled. "Too much late-night indulgence, I say! Or not enough late-night indulgence – you need to relax more."

Richard laughed too, to show agreement with Henry. He didn't need to know that he could not sleep for his mind replaying the conversation and the kiss he shared with his wife, did he?

"When was the last time you really relaxed and had some fun?" enquired Henry. "You've been too long without a lady in your life, my friend."

" _Oh God, not this again!_ " Richard groaned inwardly.

"You're lucky I'm here to help!" Henry stated confidently.

"Henry - "

His friend stopped his horse and looked at him.

"What?"

"Nothing… I don't know." Richard dismounted and walked with his horse through the trees to the lakeside, leaving the animal to drink while he walked distractedly along the lake.

His friend did the same, following Richard as he strode across to the lakeside. "What is going on with you, Richard? You're not the same fellow I remember from our youth! You're distracted and irritable all the time, it seems. You shun every woman I send your way – what on earth is the problem?!"

"Perhaps I have set my standards too high!" Richard felt angry and frustrated, and he wanted to lash out.

"And so you should!" Henry increased his pace to keep up with his friend. "A man such as yourself – a Viscount, no less! – ought to be aiming very high in terms of a marriage match."

Richard stopped, and turned to face Henry, exhaling his exasperation.

"That's not really it. I know plenty of eligible ladies… but not one of them pleases me enough."

Henry scoffed at his friend's audacity. "You are rather unkind in your criticism of the ladies at court!"

"I don't mean to be, Henry. It just frustrates me! They are nice, but _dull_! Pretty, but not beautiful. Entertaining, but not captivating, you know?" Richard swung his palm against an obliging tree trunk. "I begin to despair of ever finding the perfect woman."

Henry laughed bitterly. "That's a rare jewel! Nobody finds the _perfect_ woman!"

Richard felt himself tremble with anger towards Henry. He knew that Henry had married the perfect woman, and yet he was too blind to see it with his own eyes. He felt twisted up inside with envy, wanting Henry's wife for himself so badly that he could hardly see straight.

Seeing his friend wearing such a troubled expression, Henry tried again. "You could always just marry one of them and take a mistress." He laughed. "Best of both worlds!"

Richard could take no more of it. He thrashed angrily through the undergrowth, taking a shortcut back to his horse; mounted, and rode back to the castle at a gallop, leaving Henry thoroughly perplexed and annoyed at his friend.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Catherine was outside the stables, wearing her riding habit, when Richard slammed out from taking his horse to the stable hand upon his return. His anger still bubbled over, and he didn't even see Catherine until he almost knocked her over in his fury.

"Richard!" she gasped, steadying herself by clutching his sleeve. "What on earth is the matter!"

Richard scrambled to stop her from falling, horrified that he'd almost hurt her.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Catherine! I – I didn't see you!" He stood back, looking down at her widened soft brown eyes questioning him, her red-gold hair tumbling in curls over her shoulders, contrasting beautifully against her black riding habit, and the way she was biting her lower lip nervously as she watched him. All of a sudden, he could not get enough air. He had to move, to stop gazing at her, stop being suffocated by the strength of his feelings for her. Henry had angered him so, and his frustrations were so great that he could not be still yet.

"I'm sorry," he uttered, setting her gently aside with his hands on her shoulders, "I need to… to get some air."

He strode off towards the gardens as fast as he could walk, taking his anger out on the ground with his boots as he went.

"Richard!" He heard her voice far behind him, but he didn't stop. "Richard! Wait!" She was panting, and he couldn't make her agitated on his behalf, he simply couldn't, so he slowed down to allow her to catch up.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes full of concern as she leaned against the edge of the fountain they had come to, trying to catch her breath.

"Henry! That's what it is!" Richard thrust his foot into the side of a tree trunk, unable to contain his frustration. He looked at Catherine, sitting on the edge of the stone surrounding the fountain, and sighed, suddenly feeling embarrassed at his display of angry aggression.

"You know, Henry is my oldest friend," he reminisced. "We played together as boys, and we've been close ever since. I don't know what it is. We enjoy some of the same interests, but I think it's more a connection that has to do with personality. We just understand each other. It's a good foundation for a lasting friendship."

Catherine waited for him to continue, and after a while she prompted him softly. "Go on?"

"Lately, I just don't feel like I know him anymore. I don't understand him, or see things in the same light as him. His views perplex me and frustrate me."

"And anger you…" she suggested gently.

"Yes." Richard rubbed his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "It's awkward, when we've been good friends for so long. I'm sure he's confused by my behaviour."

Catherine looked at him thoughtfully. "What has triggered it? _Something_ must have caused you to feel like you don't understand him anymore."

"Well, that's obvious, isn't it?" Richard bent and picked up a handful of small stones, tossing one of them into the fountain with a plop. He watched the surface ripple in circles until they reached the smooth rock edge, before he added, "You are the something."

Catherine shook her head slightly, confused. "I'm not sure if I follow."

Richard sighed in exasperation. "It's what I was saying to you before. You know my feelings for you. Henry and I talk openly about his feelings, his perspective on his relationships, including yours. When we talk of these things now, I struggle to compose myself! It just makes me so angry that he can justify what he's doing to you. He explains, but it makes no sense to me, none at all! I begin to think that he's a fool, and the more I feel that way, the more I begin to dislike him. It's hard to continue an old friendship when you dislike the person who was once your best friend."

She looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry to be the cause of a rift in your friendship with Henry."

Richard almost gave a laugh. "It's not your fault, Catherine! You can't help that he's being an idiot, or that he can't see the gift that he's got right in front of him!" He threw the rest of the little stones into the fountain, and sighed. "And you can't help that I fell in love with you." He looked at her, and her eyes flicked away from his when she saw him looking. "If you're in love with someone, and another person hurts them, you can't hold any sort of friendliness for that person in your heart – best friend or not. It's just the way it is."

He walked over to the stone slab that edged the fountain, and sat next to Catherine. She was silent for a little while, turning things over in her mind.

"It must be a difficult situation for you, Richard. It can't be easy to have such conflicting feelings, and to have to hide them always."

He shrugged. "I have had years of practice. It seems normal to me. But it's harder lately," he admitted. "It's easy to love you, but harder to be friends with Henry when he hurts you." Hesitantly, he patted her hand, next to him on the smooth stone. "My instinct is to protect you. I can't deal well with things if I'm forced to push down my instinct and pretend I don't feel the way I do, so that Henry never knows."

"I hardly feel worthy of such adoration!" Catherine tried a nervous little laugh, and he hoped he wasn't making her uncomfortable by talking so frankly about his feelings for her. He removed his hand from hers, and stood, ready to continue walking back towards the castle.

"You are worthy of everything. Never forget that, Catherine."


	10. Chapter 10

_AN_ _: Okay, so here is where I need to change the rating of my story. I'm giving this a strong T rating – M is yet to come! My Cathry heart hurts to have written their altercation in the first part of this chapter (sorry!) but it's how it was sometimes, and that's why she turned to Richard for comfort after all. Still torn because I love Cathry though! My love for Catherine comes first, as does Richard's…_

 **Chapter 10**

Richard could hear their voices ringing down the corridor as he approached Catherine's chambers. Angry and raised – half the castle could be sure to know that the royal couple were engaged in another feud this evening. He had been looking for Henry to return the books he needed for tomorrow's meeting with his father and the Archduke, and when the guards to his chambers told Richard he could find Henry at his wife's chambers, Richard immediately suspected an altercation. He went as quickly as he could, books in hand, to make sure that Catherine was alright. They fought more often than not, and it was taking its toll on Catherine. Henry seemed to Richard very much the same as always, but Catherine was building her walls, which meant that she was hurting. She had it so perfected now, that nobody at court could tell how she was feeling. She wore a mask of dignity and indifference, no matter the hurtful situations she found herself in. People called her cold and unfeeling, but Richard knew the truth, and it was almost unbearable to have to sit and listen to the accusations, and act as though he didn't care, in order to throw off suspicion. It felt like betrayal. He hated it.

Rounding the corner, he saw that the door to Catherine's chambers was ajar. Catherine's voice rang out angrily, obviously furious with Henry over something. No wonder the whole castle could hear them!

"What has happened to you, Catherine?! You know, rumour has it that you are cold and unfeeling. I believed it too, but after what you've just said, I know it to be untrue." Richard heard footsteps on the stone floor as he neared the door. "Devoid of feeling is inaccurate – you have become bitter and vengeful!" His voice was tight and angry, and Catherine gave a sudden gasp.

Pushing the door open, his eyes burning, Richard was shocked to see his best friend towering over the love of his life, as she looked up at her husband with wide eyes. His large hand gripped her slender wrist tightly, exerting his greater strength over her.

"HENRY!" Instinct took over, and as Henry looked up startled, Richard was by Catherine's side in a second, his fingers gripping the muscular forearm that Henry was using to clutch his wife's wrist.

Henry's eyes were full of rage. Richard didn't know if he'd ever seen him like that before. He wasn't sure if he even knew his friend any more – he'd never thought him capable of aggression towards Catherine. If he hadn't intervened… But perhaps nothing more would have happened. He was thankful to have arrived when he did.

"What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?!" He ought to care how he spoke to the Dauphin of France, especially a very angry Dauphin of France, but he only cared about Catherine at that moment.

"Have you lost yours?!" Henry practically spat at him. "How dare you barge into my wife's chambers and confront me like this!"

Richard took a breath and tried to rein in his anger as quickly as possible. This could get out of hand if he wasn't careful.

"It wasn't my intention, Henry. Look, I came from your chambers to return your books for tomorrow, see?" He gestured to the two books he had dropped on the floor on his way to protect Catherine. Now he let go of Henry's arm and stepped away from the couple to pick them up. Holding them out to Henry, hoping he'd let go of Catherine and accept them instead, he added, "Your guards told me you were here, and when I saw you… I'm sorry, I didn't think. I just – I wanted to stop you from doing something you might regret. Think what your father might say."

A look of regret passed across Henry's face, and he dropped Catherine's wrist, looking at his hand as though it didn't belong to him. Catherine drew her hand to her chest and crossed her other arm over it protectively, waiting silently.

"Uh, yes, thank you Richard, that was… well considered." Henry stuttered. He took the books from his friend, glanced at Catherine with a mixture of contempt and uncertainty, and swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The slam rang and echoed in the stillness of the room, and for a moment there was no movement or sound in the shocked silence. Breathlessly, Richard turned to Catherine, eyes searching her out anxiously. She was cradling her wrist, and her chest was heaving so violently that she almost appeared to be panting. She looked scared. Richard went to her, and took her in his arms. She was shaking, perhaps a mixture of anger, shock and fear, he couldn't tell, but when she was finally protected against his chest, she began to cry.

"It's alright. It's alright." He whispered into her hair, holding her close.

"He said such terrible things!" she sobbed, "He makes me so ANGRY!" Richard could feel her trembling with feeling, as she choked out, "And I feel so – so hurt - and unloved – and - "

Richard pulled back from her a little, so that he could see her face. Lifting her chin with a gentle finger, he tilted her beautiful face to his. "Shhh…" he breathed, "Don't dwell on the things he said."

"But Richard - "

"Catherine, no. I don't want you to hurt any more. I wish I could take it off your shoulders!"

She looked into his eyes, seeking the comfort he was longing to provide.

"You are loved." He brushed his fingers over the curve of her cheek, smoothing the wetness of her tears away as she gazed into him. "You are loved…" His thumb traced the fullness of her lower lip as he whispered, "I love you."

Their lips met, and he couldn't tell if he had leaned into her or if she had leaned into him.

This kiss was unlike their first, which had been sweet but brief. This time, there was so much need for love and comfort on both sides – she to receive, and he to give. He hadn't been able to read her eyes to tell if she had begun to feel anything for him, and he knew she deeply loved Henry, so he had no expectations in any case – but she was kissing him, really kissing him!

Their lips brushed gently together, and Richard was startled by a passion that seemed to be building between them. He was anxious not to be taking advantage of Catherine, and to uphold his promise to her by not making advances towards her. Her hands came up to grasp his shoulders as she kissed him more fervently, and he was losing the capacity to think straight. He pushed her gently away and broke the kiss abruptly. She looked at him with surprise.

"Catherine," he paused, trying to catch his breath, "I don't want to break my promise to you."

"You're not," she replied, reaching for him again. "It is I reaching out to you for comfort, not the other way around."

"But - "

"Richard, it's alright," her tone reassured him, "You make me feel so loved, and as pathetic as it sounds, I crave that. I'm sorry. It was wrong of me – I'm the one taking advantage of you." She looked down sadly, her hands falling to her sides.

Richard stepped in close to Catherine and took her precious face in his hands once more.

"I want to comfort you. I know you love Henry. I don't want you to think of my feelings at all. I just want to comfort you. Please… if there is anything I can do bring you the love and comfort you crave…" he faded off, feeling that his words were beginning to sound foolish. She looked into his eyes, and he did his best to communicate his love for her with just his gaze.

Catherine drew close to him in the silence, and he waited. She traced his lips with her gaze and her fingertips, and pressed them gently through his beard, looking thoughtful. Meeting his eyes again with her own, she reached her hands around the back of his neck, and lifted herself up on tiptoe to kiss him.

Richard just let her. It was all like a dream. Her lips met his slowly, passionately, soft and open, and he was gone. He kissed her back, no longer aware of anything around him. Her tongue brushed his, and oh she was as talented at this as she was at all other things. Richard had never kissed a woman like this before, in fact, given that Catherine had consumed his thoughts completely since the days when he was too young to have had any experience with women yet, and his passion for her was such that he couldn't maintain a courtship with anyone else, he truly had not experienced any of the carnal pleasures that many of his friends had. He was caught off guard by the strength of desire for her that coursed through his veins.

Kissing her with all the love and desire he had for her, he became aware that her fingers were fumbling to undo the buttons on his shirt. They broke their kiss, breathing heavily, to give more attention to removing the shirt. Richard didn't dare to touch any of Catherine's clothing. Even with her undressing him, he still didn't want to appear presumptuous. He hardly dared believe that this was really happening! She wanted him? She wanted to be intimate with him? He didn't even care that it was probably just for comfort, and nothing more – he considered it a privilege to be the one she chose.

While she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, he leaned down and kissed the soft skin at the side of her neck, down to her collar bone. She smelled wonderful. Nothing he could put his finger on, just "Catherine" - the most heavenly scent in the world. She sighed as he kissed her, and with his shirt on the floor, she ran her hands over the muscles of his chest, and lifted her eyes to look at him. Her smile was – Richard couldn't breathe! – a mixture of naughty and shy; she was intoxicating! He suddenly felt very inexperienced.

"What should I do?"

She looked at him with wide eyes. "You've never done this before?"

Richard looked down, embarrassed. "No. I – I never took the time to cultivate a relationship with a woman, and never employed the services of a courtesan…" He looked at Catherine again, "You were the only one I ever wanted. Nobody else could compare."

"Oh Richard." Catherine picked up his hand and held the back of it against her cheek lovingly. "I didn't mean for you to feel uncomfortable."

He smiled at her, loving her tenderness towards him. "Not at all," he lied, for he was truly very nervous all of a sudden. Were they going to make love? She was the most desirable woman in the world! What if he disappointed her?

Keeping her eyes on his, she took his hand from her face and placed it at the laces of her corseted dress, below her neckline. There was such encouragement in her gaze that he took courage, and pulled the cords, loosening each section as he went along. When there was nothing left to undo, Catherine leaned in and kissed him once more, and he was left to navigate the removal of her outer dress by touch, lost in the kiss. Pushing the decorative sleeves over her shoulders, back and down, the dress fell away to the floor, leaving Catherine in her shift. She was already undoing his belt, and he helped her pull it out of his leather trousers. Holding her afresh in his arms without the restriction of her corset and many-layered gown, he could barely breathe. She felt so delicious! Richard could feel all her curves and his hands were free to caress her bare shoulders, and the length of her slender back. He pulled her gently in the direction of her bed, and she went with him willingly.

Laying back on her bed, Catherine looked up at him. She smiled and reached out her hand to him, and Richard lay down beside her. He didn't know what to do, or where to start. She was everything he had ever dreamed of and more, and he was suddenly uncomfortably nervous. How he wished he had let Henry talk him into spending some time with a courtesan now! He pushed all thoughts of Henry far from his mind – here he was laying half naked with his _wife_! What was he doing?! He stifled rising panic over the whole thing, and was brought back to earth by tender lips working their way across his shoulder with little kisses. The world turned right-side-up again as he beheld the creature in bed with him, and he reached for her, holding her close against his chest.

Her hands reached around his bare back, smoothing his skin, and he cherished the touch he had craved for so many years. Leaning over her, he kissed her passionately, and let his hand wander across the silky material of her shift, swirling around her belly and upwards, stopping just short of her breast. He wanted to cup it in his hand through the thin fabric, but he hesitated, unsure if he should. Perhaps, she would be uncomfortable taking things any further? Maybe he should let her lead, so that he would not overstep her boundaries. Although, he longed to remove her shift so that nothing would separate their skin.

Her body against his felt glorious, but there had to be no better feeling in the world than being skin-against-skin with the person you loved most. Even better for Richard, since he never believed it could possibly happen in his lifetime. Propping himself up on his elbow next to Catherine, he touched the laces that secured her shift, and looked at her.

"May I?"

His beloved smiled. "Yes," she whispered simply.

He pulled the laces, and reached down to the hem of her shift. She lifted her hips slightly as he drew it up the length of her body, and he helped her raise it over her head and arms, dropping it over the edge of the bed. She relaxed back into the pillows next to him, as Richard, completely spellbound, gazed upon her beauty, brushing the palm of his hand softly over the treasured skin that was newly revealed to him. He delighted in everything he discovered – the dip of her belly button, the softness of her skin just below her collar bones, and how Catherine sighed gently as he stroked her there with his fingertips. Her skin was so beautiful, and she had so many more freckles than he had realised. He smiled at the sight of them, and kissed along their trail, whispering softly against her skin, "Catherine… you are so beautiful!"

He kissed her ear, her cheek, her nose. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen," he breathed, as he trailed little kisses along her jawline, "I love you." He heard her give a little sigh, and moved on to taste her neck, pushing aside sweet red-gold curls. As he did so, he dared to lay his hand upon Catherine's breast, and was surprised by the softness, reining in his desire to take her - such was his arousal. _"This is for Catherine,"_ he kept telling himself, and he made her his focus. Caressing her breast, paying special attention to the soft skin of her nipple with the pad of his thumb, he was rewarded with a hum of pleasure – Richard could even hear her smiling. He kissed everywhere he could reach, taking his time, using his fingers to explore more of her lovely skin. Any time he had air enough to talk, he praised her softly, communicating to her in as many different ways at once how much he loved her.

When he kissed back up her neck to her face, he found her cheeks wet, and pulled away to look at her, concerned.

"Have I done something wrong, my love?"

"No," she wobbled a half-laugh, half-sob. "You've done everything right." She laid a gentle hand on his face. "Thank you for loving me like you do."

Richard smiled, placed a loving kiss on her lips, and pulled the coverlet up over them, settling Catherine against his chest comfortably. He knew he couldn't stay all night, but as long as he was able to stay, he would hold her beloved skin against his and let her just feel loved and secure. It was all he wanted for her. If he was lucky enough to have her reach for him again in a time of need, perhaps he might yet share carnal pleasure with her. He wanted her, he would be lying if he said he didn't, but more than that, he wanted to meet her needs ahead of his own.


	11. Chapter 11

_AN_ _: Thank you for the lovely reviews! :)_

 **Chapter 11**

Richard found it harder that week than he ever had before, to keep his mind off Catherine. Endlessly he seemed to be replaying the events of that evening in his mind. Her tears, their kisses, how she felt in his arms after she had trusted him with her heart, and they had shed their clothes. He tried not to allow himself to expect anything more from Catherine – indeed there was no reason why he should – but his heart continually betrayed him. He was clumsy in the simplest of tasks, distracted and absent-minded. If it hadn't been for the fact that the mood at French Court was particularly upbeat in preparation for a festival with lavish entertainments, he would surely have been on the receiving end of some aggravated responses from those annoyed by his distractedness.

Spring was in full bloom and, along with nature's rejoicing, the castle's occupants were thrilled to be relieved of the seemingly endless winter that had finally faded away. It was warm enough now to enjoy the castle grounds, though not yet to dine outside by the lake. Everybody looked forward to attending the festivities that week. The event was official in nature, so the formal announcement of important guests and members of the royal family was to be expected.

On the afternoon of the festival, large crowds gathered in the grounds, and the hum of laughter and conversation filled the air as the musicians took their places on the platform set up for them on the lawn. The King and Queen were announced and arrived, and shortly afterwards, to everyone's surprise, Henry arrived with Diane on his arm instead of Catherine. Richard did not know what to think! Was Catherine attending at all? Why would Henry arrive at an official event without his wife at his side?! Before he could think further on the matter, he heard Catherine's arrival being announced, and she appeared, elegant and beautiful, but alone. A hush fell over those attending at the realisation, but it seemed quickly forgotten as the music struck up a merry tune, and the noise of conversation picked up again.

Richard shot a glance at Catherine. She wore her mask of quiet dignity as always, and looked absolutely incredible in her gown of pale green with silver embroidery and pearl embellishments. Diane, tall and willowy, in a dark dress, could not even be compared to Catherine. Richard still could not understand it, how Henry could choose Diane over Catherine. Just to look at them, there was no comparison at all. He saw Diane give Catherine a snake-like look, and he hated her all the more. Catherine appeared unperturbed, and only Richard knew the almost imperceptible angle of her head as she lifted her chin, as a sign of her struggle to maintain her unaffected appearance.

As people dispersed to see the various entertainments around the gardens, Richard finally had an opportunity to cross paths with Catherine without it looking intentional.

"It's a fine afternoon for it!" he remarked cheerfully to her, as a small group walked past them.

"Yes, isn't it," responded Catherine absently. They waited, smiling politely at the passers-by, and when they were out of earshot, Catherine spoke in a much more animated tone. "If I have to endure much more of their stares and whispers, I shall go insane! Spring or no spring, I would rather be anywhere else than here at this moment!"

"I'm sorry. It hasn't been the best day for you, has it?"

She sighed. "No. That – that _whore_ Diane, and her smugness! It's so humiliating!"

"I know. She reminds me of a snake." Richard shuddered. "I honestly don't know what Henry sees in her. You are quite fifty times as beautiful as she is, and not remotely reptilian!"

Catherine smiled, enjoying his humour. "You always seem to know the right words to say, Richard."

"Well, I'm glad that there's something I can do for you, m'lady." He would have winked, but he didn't want to be seen, and in any case, he felt it might be too roguish.

"Come to me tonight?" she suddenly whispered, looking off to the side at the floral displays with disinterest.

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't ask otherwise."

"I shall look forward to it." He bowed respectfully, and she turned to give him a brief smile of acknowledgement so that nobody would think anything of their interaction. Only Richard saw the sparkle in her eyes before she looked away again.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard knocked at Catherine's doors that evening, holding an important looking pile of papers and books, for the benefit of anybody passing who might see him in the vicinity of Catherine's chambers.

"Enter!" came the voice he would never tire of hearing, from within.

Richard opened the door, and exclaimed as he began to step through, "Henry has asked me to take you through these papers – I'm sorry for the late hour, but he insists…"

"That's quite alright, Richard. You'd better bring them here."

He closed the door behind him carefully. His lady was waiting for him, sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing the most exquisite nightgown Richard had ever seen, and an incredibly mischievous smile. He had never wanted her so badly. Dumping the pile on the desk, he half-ran to the bed. She giggled, watching him make his way to her.

He reached her, kissing her with passion as he laid her back onto the bed. Her hands came around his back and she pulled at his shirt, kissing him back feverishly. She had such a way with her tongue! He stroked her breast, toying with her erect nipple through the silk nightgown, and attempted to wriggle the shirt off his back as Catherine squirmed underneath him and pushed at his clothing. He was so aroused that he could barely see straight! He longed to get her out of that nightgown and have her skin against his again. The little gasp she made as he squeezed her nipple through the thin fabric was music to his ears. Suddenly, it was as though he had tunnel vision. All he could think about – all he wanted in life at this moment in time, was to bring this woman as much pleasure as he could possibly give her, to find out what sounds she might make, and to hear her ecstasy for himself. He could think of nothing more desirable.

Motioning for her to shift up the bed towards the pillows, he grasped her backside to help slide her along. How many years he had wanted to put his hands there, and now here he was. The reality was even better than the dream. They climbed between the sheets, and Catherine smiled at him. He paused, leaning on his elbow, taking in her beautiful face.

"What?" she asked him softly, eyes smiling with her lips.

"Just you," he replied. "You are so lovely. I can't believe I get to be here next to you, seeing you like this. It's like a dream, but it's really true. I must be the luckiest man alive!"

Catherine laughed and swatted him lightly with her hand. "Such flattery!" she protested mildly.

Richard leaned in and kissed her languidly, relishing every moment of the contact with her lips, before pulling back and reminding her, "I only speak the truth. I'm in love with you."

Her eyes seemed to soften with a look of fondness and, dare he hope it, a true realisation that she was loved – lovable, and treasured by someone. She pulled him in close for a kiss, and laying almost on top of her, he let his hands roam her body.

At that moment, footsteps could be heard outside the door to Catherine's chambers, and they parted in a fright. The handle of the door clicked briskly as the door was opened. Richard instinctively half-rolled, half-dove over the far side of Catherine's bed onto the floor, and edged himself underneath before staying perfectly still. He heard Catherine sit up in bed, and address the visitor.

"Henry. What can I do for you? I was just getting ready to go to sleep."

Her voice was remarkably calm and unaffected, and Richard marvelled at her ability to adapt to any situation. His blood ran cold. If he hadn't acted so quickly… or if Henry had arrived a few minutes sooner, when he wasn't in such a position to hide so fast... He shuddered at the thought. They had almost been caught. He was thankful that his shirt, though undone, was still on his shoulders, and not on the floor for Henry to discover. Now he would have to wait and hope to be silent enough until Henry left.

"I haven't visited your chambers in a while, and it seemed an opportune moment."

"Oh, well… Henry, I _am_ rather tired tonight."

Henry sounded rather irritable in response. "Since you are so keen to conceive an heir, I would have thought you might put in the effort, since I have."

Richard wanted to leap up from his hiding place and punch Henry square in the face. But he stayed put. Would Catherine be able to get rid of him? Would she even want to? He waited, breathlessly.

"You're right, of course. Forgive me." Catherine rose from the bed, and Richard could see her bare feet walking across the decorative rug to her husband. She stood on tiptoe, and removed Henry's doublet and shirt, laying them on the chaise. When she returned to him, she stood up on her toes again, and Richard could not see any higher from his position, but he could hear them kissing. His heart sank. How long might he have to stay here, and what agony would he have to go through in listening to somebody else (somebody _undeserving_ , corrected his heart) make love to the woman who had his heart?

Henry's hand came into view, slowly smoothing the silky fabric of Catherine's nightgown down over her hips and rear. He paused here to squeeze the delightful curve that Richard's own hands had so recently enjoyed, and his deep voice rumbled quietly, "I do like this nightgown on you." Steering his wife to the bed, he laid her onto it with a grinding of the mattress above Richard's head. Richard held his breath, though he knew it made no difference to breathe – he should not be heard if he just kept still. He could no longer see the couple above him, but he could hear them. He silently prayed that it would be a quick conjugal visit, and that Henry would leave immediately afterwards. He was grateful for the thick rug covering most of the floor in the bedchamber. The stone underneath would have been quite unforgiving against his thin layer of clothing for any length of time.

The sounds from the bed were becoming more heated already. Richard envied Henry his skill with women – this specific skill, at any rate. Catherine certainly sounded… very receptive and appreciative. It aroused Richard to hear her pleasured sighs turn to moans, but when she groaned out Henry's name as her pleasure mounted, his heart ached. Richard had to accept what he already knew. Catherine loved Henry, _desired_ Henry – it was obvious in her voice. He couldn't hope for that to ever change, no matter how selfishly Henry behaved, nor how much he hurt her. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right! He felt angry and jealous of his friend as he lay there listening to their love-making.

The bedframe creaked as though it might come apart, rhythmically grinding as he assumed Henry grinded Catherine atop it. Faster their pace went, and harder Richard prayed that the bed would not collapse and crush him with their passion. He felt utterly depressed with his situation, and waiting for the pair to finish their race was painful. The gasps and soft cries that Catherine made were the silver lining. He longed for nothing more than to hear those sounds for him, caused by his own touch, perhaps one day. He was immensely aroused, despite his displeasure, and took comfort in the thought that he could take care of himself at a later time, replaying Catherine's sounds in his mind. At least that was something to look forward to.

Suddenly Henry grunted, and the bed stopped moving. Richard couldn't tell that Catherine had been fully satisfied, but the deed appeared to be done all the same. Now he just had to wait, and hope that Henry would leave. Did he normally stay the night after sleeping with Catherine? He didn't know.

There was quiet talking above him in mumbled voices, and a sleepy chuckle from Catherine, almost as though they were a happily married couple settling down for the night together. Richard nearly gave a sigh, but caught himself in time. Henry rose from the bed, and walked to put out the candles, and then – to Richard's dismay – returned to his wife!

It seemed an age before Catherine could be heard breathing deeply and rhythmically, though Richard could tell that Henry wasn't asleep by the way he tossed and turned. Eventually, he stepped quietly out of the bed, and dressed silently. Returning to tuck the covers around Catherine, he left the room. Richard waited a long while before he felt safe to climb out from underneath the bed. He buttoned up his shirt, and knelt at Catherine's side, watching her lovely face as she slept – so relaxed and contented. Impulsively, he whispered, "If you were mine, I would never leave you. And your pleasure would come first, always." He leaned in and kissed her cheek, and then left, clicking the door shut quietly behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"He's taking Diane to Paris," said Catherine flatly, as she and Richard took a slow walk of the vast castle grounds. They had crossed paths "accidentally" near the stables, and had been walking together ever since. Catherine seemed unhappy, and Richard was glad to be there for her.

"Oh, I see! _That's_ why you've been out of sorts. I was beginning to wonder if it was me!" He gave a chuckle, hoping to cheer her a little.

She brushed her hand absently at the leaves of the bushes that ran close to the path they were walking, but said nothing.

"Catherine?"

"It's not just that. I… I had such high hopes for that night when Henry came to my chambers." She looked up at him regretfully, biting her bottom lip. "Oh – I'm sorry to mention it! I still feel terrible that you had to endure that." She blushed, one of Richard's favourite looks on her.

"Don't torment yourself over it on my account, please Catherine! It's in the past now, don't worry."

Catherine had sought him out the next morning, after that night in her chambers, with such embarrassment and apology. It was not her fault, of course, and nobody was to blame, not even Henry. He, Richard, was the only person at fault, he felt sure of it. Invading a marriage relationship – a rocky marriage relationship at that, but a marriage all the same – to seek to be adulterous with someone else's wife… Yes, the fault lay with him. And he had realised suddenly, how much risk he had put them both at. He had thought nothing of risking his own life to be close to Catherine, but it had not occurred to him that she herself would be at risk from Henry if they were discovered. He didn't want to stop being there for her, even intimately, if she needed him as he felt she did, but they would have to be so much more careful than before. He turned his attention back to his beautiful companion. She was shredding a glossy leaf in her fingers, tiny piece by tiny piece, as she walked.

"It was weeks ago, Richard." She plucked the stem from the leaf with a jerk. "And once again, I am not pregnant." She discarded the mangled leaf with a sigh. "I had such a good feeling about it… But now I begin to think it will never happen."

Richard couldn't bear the sorrow in her eyes, or the way her shoulders dropped forwards in her dejected state. He loved her so much that he simply felt her pain, and longed to take it from her. Moving round to stand in front of her, he halted her with his hands on her shoulders.

"Catherine, look at me. You mustn't give up hope. Don't let it crush you – I can never bear to see a beautiful flower crushed."

She smiled faintly, but the sorrow remained in her honey-brown eyes. "I can't help it, Richard. What is to become of me if I never bear a child? I can't help but to dwell on these things. It weighs upon me like you can't imagine."

"You wouldn't die for it."

"I might. At the very least Henry could divorce me, or banish me!"

"Plead for banishment! I'll meet you at the border and whisk you off to Spain, where we'll live without the grandeur of court, but sleep every night wrapped in each other's arms without fearing for our lives! We'll take our walks in the olive groves, and I'll feed you oranges on hot afternoons under the trees!" He picked up her hand and planted a sweet kiss on her knuckles.

"You're very sweet to me, Richard." She closed her hand around his. "I'm sorry to be such miserable company this afternoon."

"You're always wonderful company, my love." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

They walked a little further down the path to where it opened out in front of a small lake, framed by tall reeds and lush plants. Catherine let go of his hand. It would not do to be spotted holding hands. They moved in the direction of the little bench with a view across the lake, and sat together in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Catherine spoke again.

"I know this must be uncomfortable for you to hear, in view of your feelings for me, but…"

So it was _these_ feelings again. No wonder she had seemed quiet and he had sensed she was holding back what truly bothered her this afternoon. He turned to face her, reassuring her as best he could without words, stroking her fingers gently as he held her hand in his own.

"Go on, Catherine. It's alright. I'd rather you have someone to pour out your heart to in times of need. I'm glad it's me."

His assurance was all she needed.

"Richard," her voice broke on his name, "he's actually going away, for recreation, for sheer indulgence! With _her_!" She sat bristling with tension, and brushed angrily at a tear that ran down her cheek. Her voice caught in a little sob as she added, "I'm so jealous that I can't think straight. That _bitch_! The number of ways I've plotted to take her life – you can't imagine! I am just so – so _angry_ that she gets his affection and attention, and I – his own wife, who he swore to be faithful to! – get nothing, just the occasional visit and formal acknowledgement!" She sighed, looking out across the lake. "Mind you, I'm a fine one to talk about faithfulness…"

"That's not your doing, Catherine, it's mine," put in Richard, apologetically.

"He shares his body with _her_ ," she spat bitterly, "when it should be _mine_ to have and desire, and mine alone. It sickens me to think about it."

" _I know just how you feel…"_ thought Richard to himself, though he would never dare share such a thought with Catherine.

"I love him." Catherine dropped her head forwards and gave a little sob. "I love him, and this unrequitedness hurts so much."

Richard sat beside her, lost for words to say to give her comfort, the silence broken at intervals by soft catches in her breathing as she cried quietly. He traced her pearly fingernails one by one, and then took her hand warmly in his own.

"Oh I'm sorry…" Catherine took a deep breath, pushing her tears away from her cheeks with her free hand, and brushing the loose curls back from her face. "The last thing I want to do is to hurt you."

Richard shrugged good-naturedly. "It's just part of loving someone, and I'm always glad to love you."

She smiled, relieved at his remark. "I have grown to love you too, Richard," she admitted. "I know it sounds contradictory to say that, but it's true. I do love Henry, but your love for me, and your kindness… your friendship when I have most needed it... I love you too."

Richard was quite sure that the flock of birds that rose from the reeds at that moment must have been doves, and that the clouds parted to let the sun's rays shine upon their white wings precisely at that moment because of the words Catherine spoke from her beautiful lips. He felt immune to any sort of pain at that moment in time. She loved him. She may love Henry, and perhaps a good deal more than she loved Richard, but she loved him. She loved him. Nothing else mattered.


	13. Chapter 13

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _Okay folks, this chapter is where the 'M' rating comes in. If explicit stuff isn't your thing, you can read to the dividing point in the chapter and then not beyond. You won't be lost next chapter for missing the second half of this one. :) It's kind of a long chapter – I hope that's okay!_

 **Chapter 13**

With Henry and Diane away from the castle, though they had to be careful, Richard and Catherine had the freedom to enjoy each other's company with far less tension and concern than before. Catherine had spent the first few days quite unhappy about the absence of her husband, and the fact that he had gone with another woman in her place. Richard spent time with her, gave her companionship, and listened to her as she poured out her frustrations, but even so, she would not be comforted in the beginning of Henry's absence. He was relieved to see her beginning to seem less consumed by it during Henry's second week away from the castle.

Richard was greatly looking forward to the wedding that was to take place at court that evening. It was that of his friend Robert and his young wife-to-be, whom he had not known long. They were an excellent match, and there was great happiness surrounding the occasion. With Henry away from court, and dancing planned for the party, as was always the case, he knew he would be able to dance with Catherine without arousing suspicion. A royal or noblewoman, in the absence of her husband, could perfectly reasonably dance with another gentleman who was well respected at court, as Richard was – and Henry's closest friend, no less - so that she might enjoy the celebrations. Richard knew it would not be frowned upon, and he was beside himself with excitement over the fact that he would get to publicly hold Catherine in his arms to music! He would have to be careful that he didn't accidentally kneel and propose in his star-struck state, but he assumed he would manage to avoid that! He began to wish that Henry would go away more often, but was brought back to his senses by a twinge of guilt, realising how upsetting that would be to Catherine.

That evening, the merriment was in full swing after the marriage ceremony, and the wine was flowing freely. Richard made merry with his friends, and made no more than a passing bow to Catherine, determined not to draw attention to their connection. She had taken his breath away when she had arrived, wearing a gown of fiery red (to match her fiery spirit, Richard reflected to himself, with a quickening of his pulse at the thought). The gown had full skirts, and gold accents, including embroidery across the bodice, which was tightly laced in corset style up the front. How he loved her front-lacing dresses! There was something so tantalising about those laces nestling between her breasts, like the decorative bow on a gift, teasing the recipient to undo it, and discover what was inside. Catherine wore a small tiara in her hair, which was so long now, that it had been coiled and twisted into beautiful designs on the back of her head. Her lady-in-waiting had done an exceptional job, and had left loose tendrils of curls at the nape of her neck and framing her face. She was resplendent and, Richard thought, quite put the bride to shame!

She remained quite reserved during the celebrations, talking with a few of the ladies, and exchanging a little conversation with the King, who favoured his daughter-in-law, as Richard had been happy to discover. He tried not to be seen watching her but, as covertly as he could, he was taking note of everything she did. She consumed quite an impressive amount of wine, and he hoped that she would be up to dancing later, although he had always noticed that Catherine de Medici could hold her wine better than most, especially considering her small stature.

Finally, after the dancing had been going for a while, Richard decided it would be a good time to ask his beloved to dance. Making his way through the laughing, talking guests, he found himself standing in front of her. She smiled at him, a mild look of surprise and puzzlement in her gaze. Richard felt proud of her ability to act the part, as he always did of any skill she possessed and carried out well. He bowed respectfully.

"Good evening, Catherine. In the absence of your husband, I thought I might ask if you would care to join me for the next dance?"

"Thank you, that's very kind of you." She offered him her hand, and he took it, walking on clouds with the lady of his dreams to the dance floor.

There were many couples dancing, and despite the enormous size of the hall, it seemed that there was almost too little space for so many people, which was reassuring to Richard. He knew they would not draw much attention amongst so many others.

Each bowed their head to the other as the dance began, and then Richard held her in his arms at last. She was so beautiful that he hardly dared touch her. The light reflected in her eyes as they sparkled at him, and off the gold accents on her dress. Her cheeks were flushed with the warmth of the evening, and the wine. His mind flashed back to the only other time he had had the pleasure of dancing with Catherine de Medici, that evening that he first met her when Henry had officially introduced her to French Court as his bride-to-be. He had had the audacity to ask Henry if he might dance with her, and Henry had light-heartedly agreed, given that Richard was without the company of his own lady that evening. He had been unable to speak to her at all while they danced, and felt increasingly concerned about it, though he could not force his tongue to move. She was so exquisite, and he felt he was in the presence of an angel. How could he speak with an angel in his arms? He did regret that he hadn't been able to say a word to her, though. He would make up for it this time.

"You look incredible, Catherine," he breathed in her ear as the dance steps drew them close before they passed around each other. "Nobody else here is as beautiful as you are tonight."

"Hush, Richard! Someone will hear you!" Catherine flushed a deeper shade of pink as she whispered in reply to him, but she looked radiant at his words.

"I am just making up for the last time we danced – do you remember? I couldn't speak a word – how embarrassing!" He chuckled.

"You were shy, I remember."

"I am perfectly capable of being quite the opposite of shy. No, you struck me dumb with your beauty."

"I will strike you dumb with my hand if you do not exercise a little more caution with your words!" she hissed at him, but her eyes twinkled with humour.

Holding her hand, he turned her under his arm, and then back again to face him. God, she was gorgeous! Fighting with himself not to allow his love for her to be betrayed by his eyes as he looked at her – nobody must know – he took in her beauty.

"What are you planning for the rest of this evening?" he barely whispered.

"I was thinking of visiting a friend at their chambers to… play a little chess before bed." She gave a mischievous smile and her eyes twinkled. He smiled back at her.

"But will the wine allow you a clear enough mind to triumph?" he ventured cheekily.

She gave a little snort. "I always triumph."

The music finished, and the dance ended. They parted, and he bowed courteously, taking her arm to escort her off the dance floor.

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy your evening," he said, and left her side, leaving no question over their association.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The knock he'd been waiting for came to his door shortly after eleven o'clock that evening. In the great hall, many still lingered at the party for the wedding celebrations, but most had already retired for the night, including himself. He left before Catherine, feeling that it would arouse less suspicion – if indeed any could be cast at all – if they did not leave around the same time. He went to his chambers and tidied his desk a little while he waited. He was quite sure she had meant that she would be visiting him this evening, when she mentioned chess with a friend, and his heart leapt when he heard the gentle rapping at the door. Quickly, he opened the door, revealing Catherine, stunning in that red dress, standing in the corridor glancing nervously over her shoulder. He grasped her wrist and with a playful yank, pulled her into the room, shutting the door behind her. He locked it deftly, and turned to her with a grin.

Catherine giggled in a slightly tipsy way, clutching his sleeve. "I do like this bold side of you, Richard!" Her voice was rich and suggestive in tone, and torturously sexy, as she looked at him through lowered eyelashes.

Richard felt so much more at ease in his own chambers, safer somehow, and more able to be himself. He pulled her flush with him, looking into her eyes.

"You have no idea what you have been doing to me all evening in that dress." He closed his lips over hers in a passionate kiss, before resurfacing to add, "Those laces have been tormenting me, begging me to pull them…" He felt quite grateful for the effect of the wine coursing through his own veins. It added to the heady atmosphere which was so arousing at this moment.

Catherine disentangled herself from his arms, and walked to the bed. Turning to face him, she said softly, "Then what are you waiting for?"

Richard all but bowled her over as he swept her almost off her feet in his arms, kissing her rapturously, deeply, tasting the wine on her tongue as she gasped at his advances. Her hands clutched at his shirt, his hair, and he took pleasure in hearing her breathing hard as he kissed and nibbled down her neck. He leaned back from her for a moment, and took hold of one of those tantalising gold laces. She watched, a wry smile curving at one corner of her lips. Breathing heavily, Richard tried to slow down. This was, to him, a glorious moment. She had come to him tonight, and she would be his. He had wanted her for so many years, and now the time had come. Henry could not get in the way, and the door was locked. Tonight, he would show her just how much he loved her. He could not wait – his intense desire almost overwhelmed him, but he knew he had to rein that in. He had to go slow, for Catherine's sake, and so that he could relish every second of such a privilege, with such a woman.

Pulling gently at the lace, he watched the bow spring apart. He began pushing the criss-crossed lacing apart with his fingers, tenderly stroking at her exposed skin as he worked the opening lower. The laces undone, he pushed this section of her dress off her shoulders, exposing the bodice, her beautiful freckled shoulders, and the glorious roundedness of her breasts, pushing up above the snug-fitting fabric.

"Like unwrapping a gift…" he remarked in a breathy whisper. He heard a soft giggle in response, but he didn't look up at her – he was too focused on the task at hand.

Bending his head down, he kissed one of the plump tops of her breasts above the bodice, then the other, and dropped his tongue down into the cleavage between them, tasting the curve of her skin. Catherine gasped, holding the back of his head in her hands, her fingers curling in his hair. She tightened her grasp, pulling his head up to her face, bringing his lips to hers for a searing kiss, her tongue stroking his amorously. Her hands flew to his hips, and her fingers grasped his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers and up his back. He parted from her just long enough to pull it over the top of his head, casting it carelessly to the floor. He returned to her delectable lips, while his hands roamed her back, seeking the release for the remaining section of her dress. Finding another set of laces, he pulled at the strings, untying them quickly and loosening the tight bodice of Catherine's dress. As it fell to the floor around her feet, taking it with it her under-dress, his hands took the place of the tight fabric, cupping both of her breasts in his palms and kneading them gently as he kissed her. Parting to catch their breath, Richard looked down at the treasure in his hands. Perfect – so soft, and fitting his hold perfectly, he marvelled at the darker pink of her nipples as he rubbed his thumbs over them gently, noting their reaction with delight. Beyond them he could see her nakedness in a blur of near incapacitating arousal – shapely hips and legs tapering towards slender ankles, the soft slope of her belly, the little triangle of curls below it that marked his ultimate destination. He paused to regain his senses. Catherine was working his trousers down, and her hand was – no, no! He would never hold off if… He stopped her hand gently.

"Tonight is about you," he smiled at her questioning look. "There's plenty of time for that."

Keeping her hand in his, he stepped out of his trousers and led her to climb into his bed. Pausing at the side, he reached behind her head to unpin her hair, which cascaded over her shoulders in waves of red-gold curls. He gasped out loud at her beauty, and her smile was bashful as she looked down slightly, eyelashes fluttering. She went to remove her tiara as he climbed into bed, but he stopped her, and pulled her in after him.

"No," he said, "Leave it in." Her smile lit him up inside, and he kissed her with all the love and desire he could muster, before pulling back to see her face. "I love you."

"And I love you." Her words came shyly, but with happiness, and his heart filled with joy. He cast his eyes down over her nakedness as she lay against him, and remarked, "You are so gorgeous, Catherine, so perfect," and he took one of her breasts in his hand and bent to kiss it, sweeping his tongue over her nipple and enjoying the gasp that came from her throat as he did so.

He ran his fingers down the curve of her side, tracing her belly as he used his mouth to give equal attention to the other breast. Lifting his head to see her, he praised her, "I can't get enough of you. You taste so…" he bent and took an erect nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip lightly, "…delicious!" Oh, the sound that she made – the first moan just for him! He felt a rush of heat sweep through him. Breathing heavily, he caressed her more fervently, increasing his efforts with his mouth and tongue, eager to bring her more pleasure. He moved to shift his position slightly, and as he did so, he noticed her eyes closed and her fingers curled in those beautiful sunset locks spread out on the pillow. Her mouth was slightly open, her head tipped back slightly. She was a goddess! And she was _his_ goddess tonight.

He caressed her hips now, in slow sweeping strokes. Running his hand around behind her, he squeezed the glorious curve of her backside, brushing the crease of her buttocks with his thumb, while his other hand grasped her other hip firmly. Catherine hummed contentedly, running her fingertips along the back of Richard's shoulders. He longed to hear those sounds again – the sounds he had heard her make for Henry. Just the thought of it quickened his pulse and he fought to keep his breathing under control. He didn't want to lose his focus, he mustn't let his excitement overtake him.

Laying his head against her soft belly, he ran his fingers lightly down her legs one by one, sweeping them down to her knee, and then slowly up the tender skin on the inside of her thigh, stopping just short of the treasure between them. When he lingered at the top of her other thigh, drawing light circles on the soft skin next to her womanhood, she gave a shiver, and he heard her pulse quicken with his ear to her belly. He wrapped one arm around her gorgeous thigh – the one nearest to him. Pulling it gently, he parted her legs a little. He took a deep breath, and moved his other hand to explore her where he had only ever dreamed of exploring her. Caressing through her curls on his mission, he finally found his prize. He was completely caught off guard by the unexpected heat and silky wetness that he discovered, and he was barely aware of the long-awaited sound from Catherine's lips as he groaned out his own sound of pleasure, aroused beyond anything he'd felt before.

"Oh God, Catherine!" he moaned, adding desperately, "Show me. Show me how you like to be touched."

Without hesitation, Catherine slid her hand under Richard's, and she began to move it in a certain pattern and rhythm. After a moment, she moved her hand to lay it on top of his, guiding his fingers as he followed her example.

"Like this?"

"Yes," she gasped, "Slow…. for now."

He kissed her navel, her ribs, her breasts, everywhere that he could reach while he ministered to her as she had shown him. He was glad to have asked her, because she was certainly responding to his touch, writhing gently beneath him, sighs and soft moans escaping her lips at intervals.

He soon discovered that using his mouth on her nipples seemed to increase her state of arousal, so he paid them plenty of attention as he pushed his lady towards the peak of her pleasure. She began to groan for him to go faster, and he responded accordingly, painfully aroused. He dared at one point to glance up at her face, and dear lord, he should not have done so. Her face was tipped back in ecstasy and bathed in golden light from the candles. Her lips and cheeks were deeper red than he remembered them being before, and her mouth was open as her chest rose and fell rapidly. She was so arousing to him, so absolutely ravishing, that he almost stopped the rhythm of his ministrations with the distraction, longing to just watch her.

Pulling his eyes from her, he bent his head back to her breasts and increased his efforts. Catherine made sounds that he hadn't heard her make even for Henry, moaning, whimpering and even calling out softly from time to time, and he didn't know how much longer he could take the tension. He didn't dare to move to enter her yet, for he knew he would not last any time at all being this aroused, and he wanted so much to bring her to that point of ecstasy that she deserved.

Her hips rolled and writhed beneath his hand, and he used his other hand to hold her more securely to the bed by her hip. Her arm around his body was moving feverishly, her hand clutching at his hair, scratching at his back, pressing into his shoulders, while her free hand grasped the sheets urgently. He knew that she was close.

"Catherine…" he urged her in a whisper, "Catherine, I love you. You feel so good! I want you!" Listening to her gasps coming faster, he added breathlessly, "I can't wait to hear you let go… Let go, Catherine… Let me hear you…"

Her sounds increasing in pitch, she threw her head back, arching against the sheets, and let out a sound that Richard knew he would remember to his dying day. It was almost a laugh, but it was utterly carnal and he was completely undone. Listening to her continued gasps of ecstasy, he swung his body over and inside her legs, he removed his hand and thrust towards the yielding softness between her thighs. She lifted her hips and spread her legs to make more room for him. With one final thrust, he buried himself deeply within her glorious slick heat, a sensation more exquisite than any he had ever experienced before, and came instantly, collapsing onto her as his orgasm racked through him.

After a moment, he came up for air so that he could apologise, feeling rather ashamed of such a quick finish. As he leaned up onto his elbows atop her, he felt her chest shaking. He lifted his head, and saw her watching at him with sparkling eyes, giggling uncontrollably. Her laughter stirred his own, though he did not see what was so funny.

"What has amused you so?!" he asked breathlessly.

"Just you," she chuckled.

Richard looked away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to – that is, I - "

"Richard, that doesn't bother me at all!" Catherine reached up and put her hand on his cheek, turning his face back to hers. "Was I really that arousing?" Her eyes searched his for an answer, with an equal measure of mirth and curiosity.

"You were." Richard took her hand in his and kissed each of her fingers in turn. "You're such the erotic goddess, I had no idea! You were nearly the death of me there for a minute!" He laughed and she joined him, enjoying his amusing praise.

He rolled onto his side, and they lay facing each other, hands clasped and legs entwined, under the sheets. Richard freed one of his hands to reach out and stroke the strands of her lovely hair away from her face. He loved that her tiara remained, slightly crooked now.

Catherine spoke softly, "Was that truly your first time?"

"Yes. And I don't mind if it's the last time either. I would be content to my death bed." He kissed her gently. She chuckled as she reached up and touched her tiara, remembering that it was still there.

"This seems a bit out of place now!" she remarked.

"Not at all," replied Richard. "You're the Queen of my heart already."


	14. Chapter 14

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _I'm kind of bummed not to have any reviews the last two chapters, especially the last one, just because it makes me nervous that the M chapter I wrote wasn't well-received. :/ Writing M stuff takes me out of my comfort zone and I constantly double-check worrying that I've over-stepped or made something read awkwardly, so no feedback is kind of a discouragement. :( I hope it's not my writing, and that it's just the ship I've chosen to write about that's the reason why my story is not being that much liked. I worked really hard on it, and I'm going to post all of it anyway, because I'm proud of it. I have changed the name of the story slightly, from 'For The Love Of A Prince's Bride' to 'In Love With A Prince's Bride'. I like it less than before, but I needed to change it because it was too close to Lina_Oso's 'For The Love Of A Prince' that I had forgotten about until after I titled mine. Here's the next chapter…_

 **Chapter 14**

Over the weeks that Henry was away from court, Catherine spent many nights with Richard in his chambers. They tried not to do so too frequently, in case it became obvious to anyone at the castle. Catherine's trusted lady-in-waiting knew on the nights she would not be in her chambers, although not where or with whom she would be spending the night, only so that she would not become alarmed at finding her mistress missing overnight and let the guards know.

The two spent their time together making love and sleeping, and Catherine seemed almost to return to the way she had been in those early years with Henry, when she was so full of life and radiated joy. She became more playful and her laughter was heard often, which delighted Richard. He could see that he was making her happy, and for now, making her forget Henry and his lack of love for her, and that was all that mattered.

Early one morning, draped haphazardly with the sheets as they lay naked together in Richard's bed after a night of amorous exertion, Catherine positioned her head against Richard's chest, tucked under his chin, to face the windows. Dawn was breaking, and the sky was flooded with heavenly colours as the sun made ready to appear. The room was cast aglow with soft colourful light, and she sighed with pleasure. Their arms were wrapped around each other's bodies, and their legs comfortably entangled. Catherine rubbed her foot absently up and down Richard's calf, and he dropped his chin to kiss the top of her head. He was vastly contented, and it seemed Catherine was too.

"Don't you think it's beautiful!" breathed Catherine as the first sliver of the morning sun came into view.

"Breath-taking!" agreed Richard, kissing the tip of her ear.

"The colours! It's as though God himself painted them just for our enjoyment!"

"I know," Richard added with a hint of mischief. "I have never seen hair in this exact lovely colour, nor eyes like honey and gold before."

She twisted round, lifting incredulous eyes to meet his. "I meant the sunrise, Richard, as you well know!"

He smiled with a look of slight self-satisfaction, and kissed her sweetly, before replying, "It pales in comparison, my love." She leaned back against him, smiling happily and pulling his arm tighter across her front.

"I wish our time together could never end."

"Why should it have to?"

"Because Henry will return, of course." Her tone seemed flat, and Richard wondered if she still desired Henry the way she used to, given how things had been between he and Catherine this past month during Henry's absence.

"Don't you want him to?"

"Yes, of course I do… It's just - " Catherine pushed herself up on her elbow to look at him. "You have made me so happy, Richard. I had begun to forget the hurt that Henry caused me. I hadn't realised the unhappiness I was carrying all these years until you lifted it away from me, and I'm so grateful."

She leaned forwards on her elbows, her breasts pressing softly against his chest as she kissed him slowly, lovingly, full of feeling. Laying back in his embrace once more, she ventured, "I fear the hurt will return with Henry… As long as he's here, I'm reminded. Especially with his whore shoved in my face all the time."

Richard squeezed her shoulders lovingly. "But now that we have each other… perhaps I can still make you happy, despite the hardships?"

She turned in his arms again, kissing his chest. "You do make me happy, and I know you will continue to. I just can't be sure that the strength of my feelings for Henry… I hate to mention them - "

"I know," he reassured her softly, "I know." Stroking her hair, he asked, "When does he return?"

"He has not specified a date. Another week or two, I expect, from the communications he has sent to the King."

"He sent you nothing yourself? No letters?"

She snorted incredulously. "Henry, send me letters?!"

"If I were away," smiled Richard, looking out at the sunrise, "I would write to you _hourly_ , pouring out my heart to you." He made his voice more dramatic to add to the fun, although not quite to the point of sarcasm. "I'd pine away for the lack of your company, my eyes would dry up for lack of the sight of your delicious form - " his beloved gave a deep, throaty laugh, enjoying his daydream. "I would fail miserably at whatever task had called me away from you, being able to focus on nothing but getting home again. I would return to find you buried under a mountain of letters and wax seals, and lament in utter heartbreak that I had written to you so very often, and not simply daily." They laughed together at his ridiculous story, and settled back in each other's embrace to watch the sunrise.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard waited for Catherine, who was taking her time to get ready for her shot. After a week of rain, the sun was finally shining over the castle. With only two days until Henry and Diane would be returning to court, Catherine seemed restless and not quite herself, Richard thought. She couldn't settle to any occupation, and he had arranged that afternoon for archery boards to be set up in a clearing under the willows, along with the equipment they would need. Fresh air and a good distraction, he told her, would help her feel better about things. He knew that she had always enjoyed archery.

He noted her precision as she drew back the arrow in the bow, aiming carefully. Catherine was an excellent shot, and he enjoyed watching her. After a short pause, she released the arrow, which hit the edge of the board and rebounded into the grass.

"Damn it!" she flung her bow to the ground. Richard startled at her impatient reaction and moved to her side.

"Catherine - "

"I can't seem to get anything right at the moment! Perhaps this isn't the diversion for me this afternoon." She yanked the quiver from her shoulder and tossed it down angrily on top of the bow. Rubbing her face with tired impatience, she added, "This morning I dropped my favourite vase, and I was so angry with myself that I threw another on top of it for added effect!" She sighed. "I can't think what is wrong with me."

"The stress of Henry's return is probably just getting to you, that is all. Tiredness doesn't help." He rubbed the back of her neck tenderly. "It'll be alright."

She jerked away from his touch irritably, much to Richard's discomfort and surprise, then laid her hand against his arm in apology.

"You're probably right." She let out a long tense sigh. "I think I will go and take a rest in my chambers before dinner. I'm sorry to spoil the rest of the afternoon."

"Not at all, Catherine. You should rest. Please let me know if – if I can help in any way. You know I love you."

She smiled, and now that he took a good look at her, she really did look tired, and rather pale too. He wanted to reach out and stroke her face, but she seemed not to enjoy his touch a moment ago and he didn't want to further irritate her. To his relief, she took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Thank you, Richard. You know I love you too." And she kissed the back of his hand.

"Can I escort you to your chambers?"

"If you don't mind, I think I'll just make my way there now. A bit of space on my own to think, perhaps."

"Of course." Richard tried not to show his disappointment. In any case, he would need to take the archery equipment back to the castle, so it made sense, he told himself, that Catherine shouldn't have to wait for him if she was in need of a rest.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

At a quarter past four that afternoon, Richard was in his chambers, dutifully writing to an old aunt of his, when a knock came to his door. Opening the door, he was surprised to find Catherine's lady-in-waiting standing there.

"Beatrice?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but my lady has sent for you."

" _Catherine_ has?"

"Yes, she - " Beatrice looked about her uncomfortably, and Richard bade her come in to his chambers to deliver her message. She began again, "She is in some distress, and would not let me comfort her. She told me she needed the company of a good friend, and sent me to fetch you. I – I didn't want to draw too much attention…"

"Thank you, Beatrice." Richard touched the lady's shoulder gratefully, pushing past her and making his way anxiously to Catherine's chambers. Beatrice kept pace with him fairly well, and when they reached Catherine's rooms, she opened the door, curtseying politely and leaving them to themselves. Richard thanked her as she left, and then turned to Catherine.

She was sitting in her bed, knees to her chest, hugging her legs. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and the light from the window shone on her cheeks, wet with tears. Strands of her lovely hair stuck to her tearstained face. She looked across the room at him standing in front of the closed door, and began to sob. He flew to her side, sitting in close against her and leaning her into his embrace.

"Catherine…" his heart broke to see her so overcome with emotion, "My love… what is it?"

At his words, she seemed to cry all the harder, and didn't answer him. She pushed her face into his chest and clutched at his breast pocket with her fingers. Stroking her hair tenderly and dropping kisses onto the top of her head, he tried again.

"Catherine, please talk to me. Did you have a dream that troubled you, when you slept?" She shook her head against him, no. "Then what? What could possibly be distressing you so? Please love, I'm worried about you."

Catherine took a deep shuddery breath, but stayed hidden in his embrace. Her voice came thick with emotion, wavery and unstable. "I don't know. I woke up… I didn't have a bad dream, or any dream at all that I can recall… I just felt so strange – I can't explain it, Richard! I feel so very strange in my own skin. Emotion just overcame me, and I needed so badly to be held. I'm sorry to have sent for you like this, and for worrying you so," she gave a sob, "but I – I needed you."

Richard's heart soared! She needed him! "Shhh, I'm here now, it's alright. Everything is alright," he consoled her, stroking her hair and rubbing circles on her back.

He held her while she cried, until her sobs subsided, and his shirt was quite wet through. After a few moments, he lay back against the pillows, pulling her gently to recline against him, his arms still wrapped around her protectively.

"Do you think it has to do with Henry?" he asked her softly.

"Perhaps. I don't know." Catherine's sigh sounded tired.

Richard leaned up suddenly to look at her. "Are you unwell?" His brow furrowed with concern for her. "Should I send for the court physician? You did look pale earlier…"

She smiled at his concern, stroking his beard gently. "No, I'm quite alright. I'm just being silly, I suppose."

"No. Don't say that. Something is bothering you, and there's nothing silly about that. I will love you and be there for you, whatever it is. It will be fine." He kissed her softly. "You will tell me, won't you? If anything is wrong?"

"I will." Catherine traced his lips with her fingertips. "Thank you for loving me so well."

"It's my privilege." He kissed her smiling lips, and held her close.


	15. Chapter 15

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _Thank you so very much for the reviews, and for the reassurances! I really appreciate it and I feel better about my M chapter now, lol! :)_

 _/_

 **Chapter 15**

"Richard!" Henry's voice rang out in the busy corridor as he strode down it, thankfully not accompanied by Diane for once. Reaching Richard, Henry clapped him amiably on the shoulder. "How goes it, my friend? I hadn't managed to catch up with you yesterday when I returned."

"I am well, Henry, thank you. Your trip was a success?"

"It was." Falling into step with each other, they walked together along the castle hallway. "I missed our camaraderie, of course. Fancy crossing swords with me in the courtyard later?"

"Oh, I – I'm not sure, today, Henry. I don't know that I have the energy for such a challenge this afternoon!"

Henry sighed in mock exasperation. "What is it with this tired old castle since I left?! Does nobody have any spark or interest?! What has been going on in my absence, hmm? Catherine is exactly the same – tired and out of sorts. Have you seen much of her while I was away?"

Richard bit his tongue to stifle the remark he longed to respond to that question with, and instead replied nonchalantly, "A little, yes. She seemed much the same as usual to me."

Henry walked beside Richard thoughtfully. "I went to see her last night. You know how she's been regarding the _heir_ business… I wasted no time in going to attend to that duty, but she turned me away!"

"She did?" Richard, careful not to show too much interest, was intrigued by this turn of events. "What could have possessed her to do that?"

"I don't know, but then, I've never understood Catherine and her ways." Henry huffed irritably. "She claimed to be feeling unwell, but when I pressed her, she said nothing was wrong, and that she was just tired – like everybody else here seems to be."

"And have you seen her today?"

"No. The woman is so exasperating! It's a good thing I have Diane. Catherine is so unfeeling - she shows no sign of having missed me at all!"

"What is there to miss?" muttered Richard under his breath, inwardly seething at this criticism of the woman he loved and knew far better than Henry, it seemed, for he knew that she was full of feeling and abounding in love and compassion. Unfortunately, he had not spoken quietly enough for Henry. He stopped in his tracks, anger clouding his features as he stared at Richard.

"What?!"

"I mean that – well, you hardly pay her attention when you're here, Henry, do you? You are with Diane almost continually, and Catherine knows it full well, like the rest of French Court. Should she be missing anything more than the occasional conjugal visit? Do you really offer her more than that?"

Henry looked at the floor, his hands clenching and unclenching, and Richard couldn't tell if he was simmering in anger, or if he was thinking about what he had said.

"I suppose not," Henry conceded at length.

"And why would she want to show you if she missed you?" continued Richard, perhaps unwisely, but he was impelled by his love for Catherine, and his desire to protect her. "The same reasoning might understandably compel her to keep her feelings to herself."

Henry snorted rudely. "Catherine doesn't have any feelings," he announced, but he appeared to consider Richard's words, and fell silent, taking up a slow stroll once again.

Richard breathed a quiet sigh of relief at his easy escape, chastising himself for being so foolish as to risk showing Henry even a little of his loathing for him, and for the way he treated Catherine. It would not be difficult for Henry to join the dots and realise that this disdain must be borne out of great affection for, or even infatuation with his wife. And that must never happen.

Henry stopped suddenly, looking apprehensive. "Look, Richard," he began, "Why don't you go and see her – I know it will be slightly odd for you to be calling on Catherine without me, but since you're friends… couldn't you go, just casually, and see if you can understand why she is being so cold? Let me know what you find out. I would rather have the upper hand, and that relies on me understanding the situation." He put his hand on Richard's shoulder. Richard, playing his part as best he could to throw off suspicion, looked away from his friend with a roll of his eyes.

"Must I?" he groaned, "You said yourself she is not exactly easy to talk to at the moment…"

"It would mean a lot to me, Richard."

Richard shrugged, and nodded as reluctantly as he could make it appear. "I'll try, but I can't promise anything."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Approaching Catherine's chambers, bearing roses from the greenhouse, Richard tried to rein in his delirious joy and excitement at actually being permitted by Henry himself to take his wife flowers! He maintained the bland, exasperated expression of one being sent on an errand of which he disapproved heartily.

He knocked and waited, loving the rich tone of her voice as she called out, "Enter!"

Closing the door behind him, he turned to her, holding out the flowers.

"For my beloved." He smiled, loving the way her eyes lit up at the gesture, and took her in his arms, flowers and all.

"Richard! Isn't this a bit… noticeable?!" She leaned into the bouquet, breathing in their sweet fragrance and humming approvingly, "Mmmm, I love roses! They're beautiful, but - "

"Henry _allowed_ me to!" crowed Richard delightedly, "In fact he insisted that it might help if I brought flowers, to see how you were doing, and try to get you to tell me why you are being so distant towards him." He shook his head in disgust. "Can't he see that he's brought it on himself?!"

Catherine took the flowers from him, and laid them gently on her dressing table. "I will have one of my ladies put them in water for me," she said, turning back to face him. "Why is he so concerned, why now?"

"He said that he came to visit you last night and you turned him away."

Catherine looked down at her hands, picking at her fingernails.

"I have to say, Catherine, it did surprise me to hear it. It's not like you to refuse Henry. I know you love him still, and I know how much it means to you to conceive an heir for France."

"I do. I do love him still," she admitted, but said nothing more. Richard moved towards her in concern. She would not look at him, and continued to fidget in such an agitated way. He took hold of her shoulders gently, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs, and trying to coax her to look up at him.

"Catherine, what is it? Something is wrong – you haven't been yourself this past week, and I know you are withholding something from me. Please – won't you talk to me about it?"

She shrugged uncomfortably. If he didn't know better, he would say that she was frightened about something. Keeping his hands on her shoulders, he guided her firmly to the chaise and sat down with her.

"Catherine, my love…" he stroked the loose tendrils of curls back from her face. "You are anxious – I can see it. Please tell me. I can't bear seeing you struggling under the weight of a burden that I want so much to share."

She shook her head gently. "I don't even know… I have nothing to tell, as such."

"As such?"

Catherine sighed heavily, finally conceding to share her concerns. "Richard," she picked up his hand and turned it in hers, tracing the lines of his palm slowly. "You are right. Something is worrying me – a great deal, in fact." Richard waited, watching her face.

"I – I did not have my monthly bleeding when I expected to the week before last. I have been waiting, but…" she looked up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"When I told Henry I wasn't feeling well, I was telling the truth. I really haven't been. At first I thought you were right, that I was just stressed about Henry's return after all this time. And tired – I have been so tired."

"Catherine, what are you saying?" Richard thought he knew, but he needed to hear it from her. His stomach felt knotted suddenly, and the palm she was tracing began to sweat.

"I have been so unlike myself," she continued, "Crying one minute, snapping at everybody the next. I knew something wasn't right." She looked into his eyes, suddenly seeming scared and small. "Richard, I think I might be with child. And that the child must be yours, not Henry's."

"But - " stammered Richard, "But – you – all these years. You haven't been able to conceive, so how could this be?!"

"Perhaps you were right, and it has been more to do with Henry than it has me," she suggested, "But however it has come to happen, it _has_ happened, Richard. I have no way to confirm a pregnancy, of course, and seeing the physician would only draw attention to it, so we will just have to assume." She clutched her hands together. "Oh Richard! What shall I do?!"

Richard thought for a moment. "Can't you sleep with Henry and put the pregnancy down to that?" he asked hopefully. She shook her head.

"No, I've thought about that. He has been away for such a long time that the last time we engaged in carnal relations would have resulted in a pregnancy that would be much farther along that I am now – perhaps even enough to show by this stage. And if I should sleep with him now, a pregnancy that could result from an engagement of that timing would not be consistent with how soon I will show. People will know, and questions will be asked, especially since it has been almost nine years without a single pregnancy to show for my encounters with Henry."

Richard took her hands in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss her knuckles, her fingers, her wrists, trying to remind her that she was loved. She sighed.

"I shall have to hide it."

"How?"

"I don't know. But I shall have to, somehow."

Richard enveloped her in a warm embrace, stroking her hair and kissing her temple as he laid her cheek against his chest.

"I will be here to love you and support you, always. Even if it has to be done in secret, I will love you always. And our child," he added, placing his hand on her belly gently. Catherine turned her face into him, accepting his comfort, and kissed his neck.

"What shall I tell Henry, though?" Richard wondered suddenly.

"Tell him that I'm tired. Make me out to be the tired, distant wife he believes he has. Distance will be my friend in the coming months, and I must make use of it, so I may as well begin now." She sounded resigned and unhappy.

Richard squeezed her tight in his arms, wrapping his leg around hers and breathing in the scent of her hair deeply.

"I love you with all my heart," he assured her, sealing his words with a searing kiss, "Everything will be alright."

/

 _ **AN**_ _ **:**_ _ **Just to say that I couldn't tell from the episode in Season 1 (Inquisition – ep. 11) when Clarissa's birth was mentioned, whether the whole pregnancy was hidden from Henry, or whether he thought she was pregnant with his first child, and Clarissa's birthmark made Catherine send her away to have it corrected. Agnes, the wet-nurse's mother, said that she was terrified as the time drew near for her to give birth, that the King would find out. But find out WHAT? That she was pregnant at all, or that the child wasn't his after all? It didn't seem 100% clear to me, and in the end I decided it could be interpreted either way, and I have chosen to make Catherine's pregnancy with Clarissa something that she seeks to hide entirely from Henry in my story. So, if you're reading along over the next few chapters and thinking, "This isn't how it was!" – you may be right, but I wasn't sure, and this is the way I'm taking it for my story. Just to explain!**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _Thank you for the absolutely lovely reviews! I hope that Catherine hiding her pregnancy is going to work out okay for you all! I am similarly conflicted with writing this story – my Cathry heart keeps longing for them to reconcile despite the fact that I'm supposed to be writing about Richard and Catherine, lol! I love writing little parts where Henry is tender towards Catherine. *swoon*_

 **Chapter 16**

Henry paused outside the doors to his chambers, allowing the guards to close them behind him. Richard approached his chambers at the perfect time, and Henry looked pleased to see him. He knew that Henry would not have eaten yet, and he planned to deliver Catherine's message in a way that would hopefully soften the blow – over breakfast. Food was often a helpful addition to difficult situations when it came to Henry – and Catherine, for that matter. They did have that in common at least.

Setting off down the corridor together, Henry wasted no time in asking Richard about the outcome of his visit to Catherine the previous evening.

"Did you go?"

"Yes."

"Well? What did you discover about her demeanour since I returned? Would she even see you?"

Richard hesitated. They were only twenty feet from Henry's chambers and he hadn't even asked him to have breakfast yet. He did not want to divulge anything too quickly, but if Henry persisted, he did not see how he could make him wait. Perhaps he would not get as far as breakfast?

"I actually came to see if you wanted to discuss it over breakfast – I'm ravenous this morning and I just haven't had time to eat yet. Have you eaten?"

"No, not yet. I suppose we could take breakfast in the dining room… But I would rather just hear what you have to say now."

Inwardly sighing, Richard tried to stall for time. "You were right about the flowers – they were a good approach. I don't think she would have seen me if I hadn't taken them."

"Well, yes, good – but what did she say?"

Richard glanced at his friend as they walked along. His brow was furrowed and he waited with concern for Richard's reply. Could he still have feelings for Catherine? Why else this apprehension and interest?

"She said," he began reluctantly, "She said that she is tired."

Henry slapped his palm against the side of his trousers as he strode, frustration etching his features.

"That was the excuse she gave to me!" he complained, "I told you that. Could you not discern anything else?! Why would she refuse me, when she has so much to gain from our union?! And after these two months at least without me! More, when you consider that I hadn't visited her chambers in the weeks before I went away."

"You seem almost to feel threatened by her lack of interest, Henry. Come now, are you not satisfied enough with Diane? This wouldn't have bothered you before, would it?"

"Perhaps that's it, my friend – perhaps she is trying to draw my attention with her disinterestedness."

"Well, I, uh – Henry, where are we going? This isn't the way to the dining hall." Richard quickened his pace to keep up with Henry, who was taking long purposeful strides, a determined look on his face.

"Just a little detour, Richard. We'll stop by Catherine's chambers and bring her along to breakfast. Perhaps she'll feel more talkative over a meal."

"Oh, Henry, I don't know… Shouldn't we let her rest? She did say she was tired, and I'm sure she would seek you out if - "

"Nonsense." Henry was definitely in a tenacious frame of mind. "There's no time like the present. I will not have this hanging over me all day, waiting for Catherine to come out of her tedious melancholy and acknowledge me."

Rounding the corner on Henry's heels, Richard realised there was no point in trying to divert him from his mission. He hoped that Catherine would just play along. Perhaps since he would be present, he might be able to help the conversation along in her favour.

Striding briskly up to Catherine's door, Henry entered without knocking, as was his habit (Richard hated this for Catherine), and Richard followed uneasily. He almost bumped into Henry's solid form as his friend stopped short inside the doorway. Closing the door behind him, Richard saw what had given Henry pause.

"Catherine?" Henry's voice was suddenly soft and concerned, "Are you ill?"

Catherine was still in bed, although the drapes were open, and daylight flooded the room. She was semi-reclining against her pillows, and Richard's heart sank as he spotted a chamber pot on the bedspread by her side. She looked pale and exhausted, and he didn't know how he could possibly help her, at this moment, to hide her state from Henry.

Catherine sat up, wide-eyed, startled by their arrival in her chambers.

"I – no, I'm not ill, Henry. Just tired. I – I didn't sleep well, and you know it can turn your stomach sometimes to have so little sleep. Really, I am well." She smiled wanly, her assurances unfortunately very unconvincing, considering how her features betrayed her.

Richard shot Catherine an apologetic look, and then glanced at Henry. Curiously, he seemed to be really quite troubled about Catherine. His features were softened, and his brow wrinkled with concern. He spoke, seeming as though he was searching for something useful to suggest to help his wife.

"Can I send for something to bring you relief?" he suggested.

"A little more sleep is all I need."

"Are you sure? What works for me after a poor night's sleep is a good breakfast."

She closed her eyes, lifting her lovely chin and inhaling somewhat carefully, a pained expression clouding her features. Richard's heart went out to her – his poor Catherine! There was nothing he could think of to say or do, other than perhaps to hurry Henry away from her chambers so that she could get some peace and quiet. Talk of breakfast surely couldn't be helping her.

"Henry," he ventured quietly, "why don't we call on Catherine later, and see how she's feeling after she's had a chance to rest?"

But Henry would not be deterred. "Well, as far as not having enough sleep, sometimes it's better to eat a little even if you do feel uneasy. At least let me have someone bring you something light – fruit perhaps? Those shortcakes you've always enjoyed?"

Poor Catherine. Richard admired her valour in trying to bear Henry's persistence, but she was overcome. Turning away from them, she hunched over the chamber pot and began to empty what little there was in her stomach. Henry was quite alarmed!

"Catherine!" He ran to her side, helplessly standing by her bed. "Richard! Go and bring the physician immediately!"

Richard didn't move, or say anything in response. He was caught between needing to obey his friend – and it was the obvious thing to do, if he was playing along and having no idea what was wrong with Catherine – and protecting Catherine from having her pregnancy discovered, which it surely would be if the court physician was called upon. Henry noticed his lack of movement, and glanced back at him.

"Richard! GO!" His concern for Catherine made him impatient and angry with his friend. Richard decided to feign illness himself as a last resort. He made a pained expression and put his hand to his mouth, averting his eyes from Catherine as though her vomiting was affecting him adversely. Trying to make his voice sound as feeble as possible, he made a few struggling sounds.

"I'm sorry Henry – I – ughh…"

Henry, seeing that his friend was in no condition to run an errand for him, rolled his eyes and called for a servant, a guard, anyone, but nobody seemed to be about. Irritably shouting for Richard to stay with Catherine no matter the hardship, he left the room in a hurry to fetch the court physician himself. As soon as the door was closed, Richard rushed to Catherine, sitting beside her on the bed, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she continued to retch and heave.

"It's alright, it's alright, love. Oh, my poor Catherine! Well done… You're doing so well…" and he soothed and consoled her to the best of his ability, until she had finished. He felt so responsible for her suffering, and he loved her so fiercely that there was nothing he would not do for her. He removed her chamber pot himself, placing it behind the door to alert the servants to shortly, and poured a glass of water from the jug. Pouring a little more onto his own handkerchief, he took it with the glass to Catherine and sat down on the bed, encouraging her to sit back against her pillows again. Using his handkerchief, he gently wiped her face, and then bade her sip some water, before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. She smiled at him fondly.

"Thank you, Richard. You are so kind to me."

"How are you feeling, my darling?"

"Not as bad as just before, but – Richard, I really do feel dreadful this morning! And now Henry has gone to fetch the physician!" She glanced at the door anxiously.

"I know, and he'll be back any moment, so there isn't much time to talk about it. What do you want me to do, or say?"

"I don't know," Catherine furrowed her brow. "I will have to think of something, I suppose. Perhaps refuse to let him examine me."

"I'm so sorry!" Richard blurted out, suddenly, looking down at the bedspread. Catherine clasped his hand in hers.

"No, don't be! It's not your fault, we are both equally to blame, and in any case, it serves no purpose to go blaming ourselves for something we can't change."

"I hate to see you suffering like this, and even worse that I can't be with you all the time to comfort you and help you. And," he added shamefacedly, "I should have worked harder to keep Henry from coming here this morning. I did try, but he was so determined, and I had no idea how unwell you were feeling. I'm sorry."

Catherine raised his hand to her face, laying it to her cheek lovingly.

"It's alright. Don't make yourself uneasy, my dear."

Footsteps were heard down the corridor, distantly at first, approaching Catherine's chambers. Richard stood and stepped away from her bed, keeping a respectable distance. He picked up a sealed letter that happened to be lying on the side table, and fanned his face with it, to keep up appearances for Henry's sake. The door opened, and Henry burst in, accompanied by the court physician and two nervous looking servant girls. Henry made straight for Catherine.

"Are you any better? You do look pale, Catherine."

"Better, yes, thank you Henry." She smiled gratitude at him for his concern. "Richard has taken good care of me and I have had some water, and I'm sure I shall improve with a little more rest."

Henry glanced at Richard, who paused in his fanning long enough to whisper to his friend, "The chamber pot is over there," before pressing his fingers to his mouth once more and taking a deep breath. Henry clicked his fingers almost imperceptibly as he caught one of the servants' eye, and pointed sharply in the direction that Richard had indicated. The servant instantly scurried off to empty the chamber pot, and Henry turned his attention back to Catherine. She was settling herself into her pillows more comfortably.

"If you don't mind? I think I will try to sleep for a little while," she tried, but Henry was having none of it.

"Catherine, I insist that you see the physician, and he is here to see you now. It surely won't take long, and then you can rest, but I would prefer to have you examined. Please?"

She looked uneasily at the physician, and then at Richard, and Henry, and finally nodded. Henry turned and moved towards the door, grasping Richard by the arm as he did so. Catching his eye, Henry rolled his eyes, and scoffed slightly, reprehending him for his weak stomach. Richard feigned an embarrassed smile.

"Are you going to wait here?" Richard asked him once they were outside the room. He hoped Henry wouldn't invade the examination and put Catherine in more difficulty. To his relief, Henry nodded.

"I think so. I want to hear what he has to say straight away. Would you stay, Richard? I wouldn't mind some company while I wait." He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight as he stood there. "I don't know why it has affected me so," he wondered aloud. "I suppose I never considered someone as strong as Catherine being unwell, or weakened in any way. I feel… I love her more than I realised."

This revelation both relieved and dismayed Richard. For Catherine's sake, he was glad to hear that Henry still had feelings for her, as he knew she loved him deeply, and was very hurt by his absence and apparent lack of love. But he would be closed out, and she would not need him any more, if they were to reconcile their differences. Shaking himself mentally, he chastised himself for such thoughts. Of course the best thing for Catherine would be their reconciliation! It would make her happy, and happiness in marriage far outweighed the happiness she could have with him. The thought made him sad, but he must not allow it to affect his actions. He loved Catherine – he must want what was best for her.

There was little conversation as they waited. Henry seemed distracted, and Richard was too, for his own reasons. At length, the door opened and the physician stepped out with his bag. Henry moved to his side quickly, eager to know what he had to say.

"Well? What can you tell me?"

"My lord, your wife declined a full examination, so I cannot be thorough in my review of her case."

"She what?! Why would she decline?!"

Richard tried to help, "I expect she was not feeling up to it – you saw how she tried to get out of any sort of discussion in the first place. Perhaps a full examination would be too much at this time?"

The physician spoke again, "She appears to be exhausted, my lord. Sickness can accompany exhaustion in severe cases, and can run for some time, especially if care is not taken to rest adequately during recovery."

"But… Catherine hasn't been exerting herself particularly – has she Richard?" Henry turned to Richard.

" _That you should be asking ME, about your own wife's activity these past two months!_ " Richard seethed to himself inwardly at Henry's question, " _Where were you at the time?! Not so preoccupied with Catherine then, were you?! I'm sure you could tell me all about DIANE'S exertions!_ " He said nothing for the moment, but looked up, trying to look thoughtful.

"Well…" Richard furrowed his brows, "She has been especially anxious these last couple of months," he addressed the physician. "She did tell me that she hasn't been sleeping well for some time." He resisted the urge to throw an accusative glance at Henry, adding, "And I did try to interest her in some archery practise recently, but she seemed too tired to focus on the game, and went to rest instead." At least this part was true.

The physician nodded. "Yes, I asked about her sleep patterns and she informed me of her difficulties these last few months." Looking at Henry, he said, "I believe she is suffering from exhaustion, caused by lack of proper rest, and disturbance of sleep. She needs to rest, and I shall have some herbs brought in to be used for a drink before she retires to bed each evening. That should help. It may take some time before she is fully recovered, my lord. We shall need to exercise patience, especially in regards to any duties she would normally undertake."

Henry nodded, concerned. "Of course. Thank you."

The physician bowed respectfully and left. Richard was relieved with his diagnosis – it was perfect for Catherine! It cast away any suspicion of pregnancy, and gave a valid reason for prolonged tiredness and even sickness, though he felt that the intensity of her sickness might become a problem if it persisted alongside the prescribed increase in rest. He hoped she would be able to stomach the herbal drinks.

"I'm going in to see Catherine." Henry put his hand on Richard's shoulder. "Thank you for being here, Richard. I appreciate it."

Seeing that he was being dismissed, Richard determined to find a way to see Catherine later, when Henry would not be likely to find out. He didn't know how he would pass the time until he was able to see her. She meant so much to him.


	17. Chapter 17

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _Thanks again for the reviews! Demedicigirl, it's like you've read my mind (or my story ahead of the rest of it being published, lol!)! That's exactly how I was thinking it would go, and how I've written it, as you'll read in the coming chapters. Heartbreaking, but that's Cathry, sadly. I have GOOD Cathry stories planned for after this one, if that helps! :)_

 _/_

 **Chapter 17**

The summer waned into a heatwave, which was rather unfortunate for Catherine in her condition. Henry was very much more attentive to her needs, and seemed to be paying far less attention to Diane, which seemed to please Catherine. For his part, Richard tried to casually divert Henry's attention away from Catherine in the mornings and keep him occupied as much as possible in the evenings. Catherine's best time seemed to be the afternoons, although with the heatwave, everyone in the castle was wilting at that time of day, and not just Catherine.

When he was particularly busy, or spending time with Diane, Henry seemed to have a guilty conscience, and this worked wonderfully in Richard's favour, for Henry would ask him quite often if he would check on Catherine, or keep her company for an hour or two.

On this particular day in late August, the smothering afternoon heat rested suffocatingly over the castle like a heavy blanket. Richard had a few hours to spend with Catherine, and although she was heading into a grim time of day for her pregnancy symptoms towards the early evening, they decided to take a stroll in the castle gardens for some air. Most of the castle's occupants seemed to be at the water's edge for the afternoon, or else napping off the heat in their chambers, and the gardens were quite deserted. Richard was glad of this for Catherine's sake, particularly at that moment when he was crouching by her side holding her pretty hair off her face as she was sick onto the rose beds.

When she had finished, she sat back in the grass and began to cry. Richard sat down beside her, feeling helpless, his heart aching for his beloved.

"How long will this _last_?!" she lamented. "I can't stand the endless sickness and tiredness! It would be unbearable even if it was a joyful affair and I was being sick for the benefit of the French throne!"

Sobbing with frustration, she wrenched a handful of grass from the lawn and threw the tender blades angrily to the side. Taking a deep shaky breath, she turned tear-filled eyes up to Richard.

"I'm sorry, Richard, that wasn't fair of me." She sniffled and wiped at her face.

Richard understood completely. "It's alright," he reassured her, putting his arm around her slender shoulders, "It isn't fair to you either. I hate that it's so hard for you. If I could do the sickness for you, I would."

Catherine leaned her head against his shoulder heavily, accepting the comfort he was offering her.

"I know you would. You have always been so selfless." She turned her face up to smile at him, her eyes full of affection.

Helping her to her feet, Richard took her arm gently as they began to walk again. "Should we head for the lakeside? It might be cooler there."

"Ugh, no. Too many people." She grimaced.

"The bench just ahead then? Shall I kneel at your side and fan you with branches?!"

She gave a slight chuckle and nodded – how he had missed the sound of her laughter these past weeks! They walked to the bench and sat together in silence for a little while. Finally, Catherine spoke.

"Henry is being very attentive to me." She glanced sideways at Richard apprehensively.

"I noticed." Richard made his smile as warm and glad as he was able to, for her.

"Is it true that he's spending less time with Diane than he used to?"

"Yes, it seems that way." He looked at her unnaturally casual expression, reading between the lines with ease. "Catherine, it's alright to talk to me about your feelings for Henry. I know you love him, and a reconciliation is something you long for." He sighed. "It is rather an awkward situation, I realise, given our relationship… I'm sorry it's difficult for you."

Catherine put her hand on his arm, tracing the stitches on his loose linen sleeves with her fingertips, her eyes following the patterns. "I don't like to," she admitted. "I think it must hurt you, no matter what you say, and I can't bear hurting you." She curled her hand around his forearm, looking down thoughtfully. "I do so want Henry to love me again. I can't help it – it seems so foolish of me! He has treated me so unkindly, and you have loved me to the very best of your ability, even though I still love another. And _still_ I desire his love. What kind of person does that make me?"

"It makes you a loving wife, Catherine, nothing less. I feel terrible that your natural feelings are being confused because of my declaration of love for you. All of this has come about because of it. I should never have revealed it to you." He looked away from her sadly.

"Richard." She turned his face back to hers with a gentle hand. "If you hadn't told me, imagine the miseries I would have suffered this past year! To be unloved is a heartache that I wouldn't wish on anyone. You have spared me that, or minimised it, at least. When Henry left me heartbroken, you were the salve to heal my wound. You have given me love, and I will never regret that." She sighed. "I'm just sorry it has to be so complicated."

Richard nodded his agreement. "And more so now that you are pregnant with my child." He looked at Catherine. "Henry still doesn't suspect anything?"

"No." Catherine brushed her hair off her neck, fanning herself gently with her other hand. "The physician asked about my monthly bleeding, as I knew he would, but I told him that I was still having it as normal. I reminded him rather sternly that my husband had been away, and told him that it was improper of him to consider such a suggestion." She giggled at the memory. "You should have seen his face, Richard! As though he wished the floor would swallow him up!"

"I wish I'd been there!" Richard enjoyed her amusement, "I love it when you're stern! You look so irresistibly delectable…"

Catherine pursed her lips and shot him a look through narrowed eyes – disapproval with an unmistakable hint of delight.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

With the long-awaited break in the weather, came the equally long-awaited improvement for Catherine. Cool, fresh air came in from the coast, and the leaves turned and began to fall. Richard was relieved to see Catherine's colour back in her cheeks, and the return of her appetite. She was happy, and that made him happy. Of course, she remained worried about the pregnancy, and about Henry discovering the truth, but she was thrilled to feel better. He could tell that Henry's attention was part of the reason for Catherine's happier state, too.

One pleasant autumn afternoon, playing chess at a wooden table near the lake, Richard had an opportunity to talk to her about it.

"Henry sent Diane off to Paris this morning!" Catherine's voice was triumphant as she took Richard's bishop. "Good riddance. I hope he never summons her back!"

Richard glanced at her and, saying nothing, moved to intercept her knight. Catherine considered her next move, but became distracted by Richard for a moment.

"That's good news, isn't it? I know you dislike her almost as much as I do."

"Most definitely." He studied the pieces left on the board. She sat back in her chair.

"What." It was more of a comment than a question.

"Mmmm?"

"What is it?" Catherine sounded impatient.

"It's… your move?"

She sighed. "Richard, I know that look. Talk to me. What can possibly be bad about Diane leaving? Or is it something else?"

Forgetting about the game for the moment, Richard spoke his concerns to Catherine.

"It's -" he paused to choose the right word, "wonderful, that you are drawing Henry's interest again. I can see that it's making you happy, and that makes me happy – truly. I just – I wonder, have you thought about what you will do to hide the rest of your pregnancy from him?"

She looked down at her hands, picking at her cuticles in her lap. "I have," she ventured, "but I suppose I am procrastinating."

"How so?"

"I have missed Henry so much. I've missed feeling loved by him, and his attention being focused on me. I have missed being desired by him. Now those things are changing, and it – it makes me feel like I used to feel at the beginning of our marriage, when we were so happy together." She let out a long exhale, her shoulders slumping forward. "I don't want it to change." Her voice was small and sad.

"Oh Catherine…" Richard reached across the chess board to take her hand.

"I will have to push him away, won't I?" She wouldn't meet his gaze. "I will have to make him wish he had not shown interest, so that he puts me aside again." Catherine took her hand back, and stood abruptly, knocking her fist against the back of her chair in frustration as she walked around it. "I don't want to! I can hardly bear to! But if I don't, he will find out. I can't allow him to sleep with me once my pregnancy begins to show."

"Won't he become suspicious if you refuse him? Or angry?"

"He might – I suppose he will be confused and angry, and I can hardly blame him for that." She rubbed at her forehead, looking out at the lake. After a silence, she added softly. "He came to me last night, and we slept together."

Richard felt like she had hit him in the stomach, hearing this news, but he knew he had no right to have Catherine for himself, and if Henry was what she wanted…

"Oh?"

She nodded, keeping her gaze out over the lake. "It was… almost as though nothing had changed, as though the recent years just disappeared away. Everything was wonderful. He asked to come again tomorrow."

"So soon?!"

"Yes, well," her eyes flicked over to Richard, and meeting his gaze, looked sharply away again. "He – we both – it was enjoyable," she confessed uncomfortably, "and it has been so long for me – even for Henry. He told me that he hasn't been close to Diane for some weeks now, and regretted not sending her away sooner."

Richard squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

"But I shall have to put a stop to all this happiness soon enough." Richard hated how resigned and empty her voice sounded at this.

"What can I do?" he offered.

"I don't think there is anything you can do," she said softly, and then turned to smile at him. "But thank you. I am sure I will be glad of your friendship as much as I always am, when Henry is lost to me once more."

"You will always have it." Reaching out for her, he closed his hand over her small fingers again, and gave them a reassuring squeeze.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Knocking at Henry's door, Richard waited. Hadn't he said he would need Richard there by eight o'clock that morning? Henry was usually so prompt. Perhaps he had the day wrong? He would just knock once more, a little harder in case Henry was still sleeping for some reason, and then try the stables in case he had set out early and gone ahead.

Raising his hand to the door to knock again, he stopped suddenly. He heard sounds from within. Henry must not have heard him the first time. Another sound – Henry's deep chuckle, followed by a pleasured groan. His jaw tightened. He had someone in there with him. Of course, Henry could do whatever he chose, but Richard felt for Catherine if she should find out. Knocking again, his heart sank as he heard a squeal and a giggle from somewhere within Henry's chambers. He would know Catherine's luscious giggle anywhere. He wished he could just disappear, or that he'd realised she was there before knocking a second time. Someone approached the door inside the room, and he heard a bolt being drawn back – Richard winced. There was no other reason for Henry and Catherine to lock the door unless –

"Richard! What... Oh! I completely forgot! Forgive me. Could we… can we rearrange for another time?" Henry, wearing little more than his rich velvet robe pulled tightly around him, seemed distracted.

"Of course, but didn't you say it was important? We had to start out by a quarter past eight, remember?"

"Uh, yes. Yes! You're quite right." He rubbed his head in agitation. "Look, give me ten minutes to get ready. Would you mind? You could wait here, or I can meet you at the stables." He closed the door, and Richard heard the bolt being pushed through again. He sighed, letting his head fall forwards. Did he want to wait here? He didn't really trust that Henry would be getting straight into his clothes – hell, if _he_ was in the room with Catherine, getting dressed would be the last thing on his mind too. Thumping his back against the wall heavily, he leaned his head back on the cold stone and closed his eyes, hoping to shut out the misery that had closed over him the moment he realised the woman he loved was in Henry's arms. He was outside looking in. And she was happier in there with Henry, than out here with him.

The muffled sound of a sudden lustful gasp from Catherine made him leap from his position as though he had been stung, and he set off immediately for the stables, not wanting to have to overhear anything else from Henry's chambers that morning.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard was lying on his bed one evening, a couple of days later. He needed to get out from under the weight that seemed to be holding him down these past two days, but he just felt too apathetic to do anything about it. He had had a strained morning with Henry after leaving his chambers the other day. They had exchanged such little conversation, and Richard had struggled to respond to much of anything that Henry said, that eventually Henry had accused him of being in poor spirits that morning, and treated him rather coldly. Things had gone little better with Catherine. He had seen her once in passing, and even then, he couldn't bring himself to maintain eye contact with her. He rolled up into a sitting position, and let his head rest against his knees pulled up to his chest.

At that moment, there came a knock to his door. Looking up and calling out for the visitor to come in, he was dismayed to see Catherine coming into the room – though his heart betrayed him with a leap of joy at the sight of her. She closed the door quietly behind her, and turned to face him. Her hands were folded carefully at her waistline, which was thus far still slender enough in appearance, and she looked uncomfortable, somehow. He couldn't tell whether her expression was one of nervous apprehension or uncertainty.

"Catherine," he said as cheerfully as he could, brightening his expression and sitting up straighter. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

She smiled, but her eyes stayed large and worried. "You've been avoiding me."

As he attempted to disagree with her, she held up her hand and closed her eyes, and he fell silent. "I've noticed. You're – you're usually so attentive." Richard looked down at his knees as Catherine crossed the room and sat down beside him on the bed. "So I thought – I knew something must be wrong." She fiddled with her wedding ring. "I told you before that I never wanted you to get hurt… but it seems like it has happened all the same." She looked into his face questioningly, trying to get him to return her gaze.

Richard took her hand, but he couldn't look at her. He truly did feel hurt – betrayed, if he was honest, although that was ridiculous of him. He knew what he was getting into when he first fell for Catherine, and when they first kissed, and when he took her to bed while Henry was away. He knew. So he had no right to feel betrayed.

"Won't you say something? Your silence is worrying me."

"I'm sorry, I really am. I don't mean to make you anxious."

"It's about Henry and me, isn't it?..." A silence. "Richard?"

"Catherine, I don't want to interfere or cause trouble where my presence does not belong in the first place. I – I am so sorry to upset you! I feel I've been the source of difficulty all along." He sighed. "You are right, I am struggling since I discovered you at Henry's chambers the other morning. I had no idea it would affect me so."

"You felt hurt." Her words were more a statement than a question.

"Yes." He looked down at her hand, so small and soft inside his own hand. His feelings overwhelmed him, and he looked up at her earnestly with tears in his eyes. Her breath caught as she saw them.

"I can't bear it! I can't bear to think of you in his arms! I know you love him – I know you will always give him another chance because you love him so much, but - " he broke off, trying to keep his breathing steady. "Henry has hurt you deeply before, and I just feel that - what if he hurts you again?! I am truly happy for you that you have his favour right now, but I can't help thinking… thinking that he'll treat you badly and hurt you again, and yet he still he gets YOU. You, who I would gladly die for if it was asked of me." He pushed his hands through his hair and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment. "It does hurt me. That's all that's wrong. Nothing more."

He looked at Catherine, sitting beside him on his bed, where they had shared pleasure, laughter and companionship, and declared their love for each other. She shimmered in a soft blue dress with ruffled lace around her pretty neckline. Loose curls fell around her shoulders and down her back; a little of her hair was drawn up into a blue ribbon at the back. She looked so beautiful. Lately, she had a healthy glow about her – her cheeks were rosy and her eyes sparkled. At this moment though, they sparkled with tears, threatening to spill down over those lovely cheeks. How he hated to see her unhappy!

Lost for words to say to each other, Richard took her in his arms, and they embraced, just holding on in the emotion-filled silence, for a long time.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Henry slammed the book onto his desk. Richard looked up in surprise, noticing his thunderous expression and his distractedness.

"What did that book do to you?!"

Henry was in no mood for his friend's humour, and ignored him, beginning to write. In the silence of the room, Richard could hear the quill scratching angrily, until finally Henry seemed to be irritated by that too, and tossed it against the ink well.

"Henry," Richard put down his book. "What is wrong? You've been in a cloud all morning!"

Henry sat back in his chair forcefully, the wood creaking alarmingly with the impact. "I bought Catherine a pearl necklace and gave it to her last night."

"How could that possibly cause such miseries?!"

"She acted strange." Henry threw up his hands in exasperation. "Women! I will never understand them! I thought everything was going so well. It seemed as though we were getting back to the way we used to be together."

Richard swallowed carefully. "What happened?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"She thanked me so coldly! And lost interest in my presence shortly thereafter, it seemed!" Henry stood and paced, tense and agitated. "Richard, she turned me down when I suggested I stay – that's the first time since, oh, months and months ago, when I was only visiting her out of duty."

Richard looked down, his eyes absently wandering the interlacing pattern on the large rug. So, it had begun. Poor Catherine.

"And when I tried to talk to her about it – I mean, obviously I knew something was bothering her – she wouldn't. I asked her if I had done something wrong, and she said that all my recent attention was making her feel closed in, and that she needed her space!"

Henry swung round, connecting his fist with the back of his chair with a crash that echoed through the room. He was angry, Richard could see that, but then, they had expected that much.

"I can do no right where Catherine is concerned! She is so unpredictable! It reminded me of why we went our separate ways when we did. At least she is no longer pressing me incessantly about conceiving an heir, but I do not understand her at all, Richard!"

Richard made a vague attempt to sympathise and commiserate, but he had no idea what to say to Henry. He had long since lost his respect and admiration for him, and all he could think about was Catherine. He was surprised that she hadn't told him about the altercation with Henry straight away.

At lunch time, he headed straight for Catherine's chambers to see if she was there. She was. Her lady in waiting was serving her a light luncheon and she bade Richard join her, since he had arrived at just the right time. When the door closed behind her lady, Catherine turned to her lunch and began to eat hungrily.

"Catherine, Henry told me about yesterday. I wanted to check on you to see if you were doing okay."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Catherine's smile looked to Richard to be a little forced. "I am doing fine. It was something we were anticipating – there's no avoiding it. I think it went according to plan." She betrayed no emotion at all.

"I should say so." Richard helped himself to a sandwich. "Henry has been in a foul mood all morning. He was quite angry and confused, as you said he would be."

She paused, swallowing thoughtfully. "Do you think it will put him off?" she asked, "Or might he be persistent?"

"That is yet to be seen," answered Richard honestly. Catherine said no more, and they ate their lunch in silence, Richard watching her constantly, feeling quite sure that she was in no way dealing with all of this "fine". If she didn't want to acknowledge it, he could hardly force her to, so he let it be for now, making a mental note to keep a close eye on her as the difficult situation with Henry progressed.

/

 _ **AN**_ _ **: I'm so sorry it's heartbreaking! I'm sad for all three of them, but enjoying unpacking all the emotion and angst of their story, all the same. Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews!**_


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Passing near to the outer walkway as he talked with his friend Robert, Richard noticed little groups of people whispering to each other as their eyes were glued to the grounds outside the castle. As they came nearer to the archway leading out into the gardens, he became aware of voices in the distance, raised and angry-sounding.

"Someone's giving the gossips something to chew on!" remarked Robert with a chuckle.

Suddenly, Catherine's voice came clear on the breeze to where they were standing.

"I do _not_ have to explain myself, nor shall I allow you to humiliate me any further by doing so!"

Richard's heart was suddenly in his mouth, and he made a quick excuse to Robert about Henry needing his support, and headed for the gardens, pushing his way past the gatherings of nosey servants and nobles alike.

He met Henry, striding angrily in his direction, practically kicking the very stones and shrubs out of the ground as he did so. The people scattered hastily. Richard could see Catherine walking briskly in the opposite direction across the garden, under the cover of tall trees deeper into the grounds. Her posture was stiff and angry, and he knew she would want to give the appearance of wanting to get some space to clear her head after a heated argument with her husband. He knew, of course, that she must be feeling terrible inside, given that it was all an act. She certainly could act well though, he thought to himself with surprise.

As Henry approached him, Richard shrugged slightly, holding up his hands in question. Henry was too angry to stop walking, but as he came level with Richard, he ground out harshly, "She's all yours! I don't know that I can stand to be near her another minute! Go, if you like. See if you can figure her out, and let me know if you can get to the bottom of this madness!" Then he was gone.

Richard set off immediately across the lawns in the direction that he'd seen Catherine heading. Making his way under the trees, he called out, "Catherine! Wait!"

Hearing no reply, he pressed on. Pushing through the thickening bushes into the central part of the grounds, he listened out over the sound of his own rapid breathing, for any sign of Catherine nearby.

Finally, he came upon her sitting on a log bench in a clearing, the ground around her a vibrantly coloured carpet of fallen leaves, and her burgundy dress matching the scene beautifully.

She was leaning forwards with her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. At first, Richard thought she was crying, and it would not have been at all unexpected if she were, but when she heard his footsteps, she startled, lifting her face and giving an awkward little laugh as she saw him.

"Oh! You startled me, Richard! I thought it was Henry, come for another round."

Richard sat beside her cautiously, feeling concerned for her. "Are you alright? Henry went straight into the castle as though he might take the walls down with him – I'm sure you're safe from another round for a while."

"I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, though." The silence felt strained and unnatural between them, and she flipped her hand casually at non-existent flies.

Richard narrowed his eyes a little, looking at her carefully. She was being too cheerful, too closed, too polite.

"Catherine," he tried, putting his arm around her shoulders, "Aren't you upset?"

She pushed his arm away. "I said I'm _fine_. You don't have to be so overprotective!" And she stood abruptly.

"My love, you've always been able to talk to me about what's on your heart – you don't have to hide your feelings from me now."

Catherine glared at him, "Perhaps I don't _want_ to talk! Perhaps I don't _have_ any feelings! Hasn't Henry told you that one by now?!"

She turned and began walking furiously through the trees in the direction of the castle. Baffled, Richard got up and followed her, but she shouted over her shoulder for him to leave her alone. Perhaps it was one of the moods she had mentioned, related to her pregnancy? He wanted so much to catch up with her and talk like they used to, intimately and wholeheartedly, without holding anything back. He wished he could hold her and let her cry or shout or whatever she needed, so long as he was _there_ and could make her feel secure and loved after she had let it all out. He hadn't considered that she wouldn't let him near her, and he did not know what to do. Perhaps it wasn't just an act? Maybe Henry really had angered her, and she was as annoyed with Henry as he was with her?

Over the weeks that followed, things between the Dauphin of France and his wife were very much back to the way they used to be. The couple were cold and distant, and rarely came together except for official appearances. Any time they were seen or heard together outside of those occasions, they were usually engaged in a heated argument.

Richard had expected Catherine to confide in him more once things were going badly with Henry, or even to seek him out for comfort as she had done in the past. But she seemed strangely distant from him too, and he couldn't understand why. He longed to be close to her during this difficult time for her, and tried many times to get past her walls that she seemed to have built around herself, offering friendship, company, meals to share, or gently coaxing her to talk. But she would not. She spent some time with Richard, but she seemed to have a mask on and was quick to become irritable and angry with him if he pressed the issue. He didn't want to back off and leave her without support, so he kept loving her as best he could, feeling somewhat hurt and confused that she should shun him like this. He felt sure that she was hurting underneath, and he would not leave her in pain, no matter how hard she pushed him away.

Then came a cold afternoon in early December, when the heavy clouds threatened the first snowfall of the season. The day when Henry brought Diane back to court. Richard had heard the carriage arrive, and glanced out of the nearest window (along with half the castle, who had been hearing rumours that she would be returning if Catherine didn't mend her ways for Henry), to see her stepping darkly from her carriage, her gloved hand held by Henry. He looked excessively pleased to see her, and kissed her cheek, confirming to all the spectators that his official mistress was officially back.

That evening there was a banquet to mark the birthday of Princess Margaret, and Richard watched Catherine arrive alone, instead of on the arm of her husband. He noticed that the formal gown she wore was not a corset-style dress like her others. It was beautiful, flowing, and ornate, and the change was subtle. He hoped it would be unnoticed by others, as anything more relevant than a slight change in style. She looked so lovely, her hair coiled elegantly up off her neck, while little wispy curls moved slightly in the air as she turned her head this way and that, sizing up the event. As the crowds of nobles took their seats at the banquet table, Richard saw Catherine's face harden for only a second, before the mask of elegant dignity replaced the look. Following her gaze, he saw that Henry and Diane had been seated next to each other, with Catherine's seat placed opposite, across the table, next to her celebrated sister-in-law.

He inwardly hated Henry for wasting no time after Diane's arrival, getting her right under Catherine's skin that very same day. He felt helpless, being seated further down the table from the royal couple, unable to be of any comfort to Catherine, should she need any. He hoped that she would manage to bear the evening tolerably, and determined to seek her out afterwards in case she was in need of a friend.

Richard admired Catherine more than ever as the evening went on. She barely even glanced across the table, not even allowing Henry or Diane the satisfaction of her attention. She engaged herself in very cheerful conversation with Princess Margaret for most the meal, and even talked with the King a couple of seats further down, giggling when he joked or complimented her. Richard felt so proud of her, and greatly enjoyed the sour looks Diane kept giving at her lack of success.

Towards the end of the evening, while Diane hung snake-like on Henry's arm, and Richard was engaged in an exceedingly dull conversation that he couldn't seem to escape with the Marquis-of-somewhere that Richard had forgotten less than one minute after their introduction, he saw Catherine cheerfully bidding the King and Queen goodnight, making ready to retire to her chambers. Before he could squirm away from his boring companion, she had already disappeared.

Between the dull Marquis and two other merry conversationalists who had interrupted his plans as he tried to make his way out of the party, it was at least twenty minutes before he was finally able to leave. Henry and Diane had retired together ten minutes earlier, and Richard had no doubt of their plans for the night, going by the looks they were giving each other. He could not bear the sight of either of them at this moment in time, and he only wanted to get to Catherine. Although by now, he was concerned that she would already have been dressed for bed and perhaps might even be asleep for the night. He hastened down the corridors to her chambers as quickly as he was able.

Pausing outside her doors, and hearing no sound of servants bustling inside, he knocked. There was no response from within. He knocked again, sensing that she was not asleep, but that she was choosing not to answer.

"Catherine? It's Richard."

The voice that came muffled through the closed doors sounded hollow and unhappy.

"Please go away."

He could not bear the unhappiness in her tone – it sounded to Richard as though her very heart was breaking, and he no longer cared if he incurred her wrath. He had to be near her, and nothing would incite him to go to bed and leave her alone in her sorrow. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the handle, opened the door and went in, closing it quickly behind him. He expected a tirade of indignant words for his intrusion, and spoke as soon as he entered the room, hoping to get in what he needed to say before she began.

"Catherine, I will not leave you when - " He stopped short.

The room was dimly lit by a few candles and the soft glow of the fire burning low in the fireplace, and he could see that Catherine had gone to bed. She was curled on her side, her back to Richard. One of the pillows from her bed was held tight to her chest, and her arms seemed to cling to it for dear life. When she heard Richard, she curled tighter around the pillow and buried her face in it. Her beautiful hair lay fanned out on the pillow behind her. He caught the tell-tale sound of a stifled sob, and his heart filled with compassion for her. She had been so prickly with him for weeks – he didn't know how he should approach her, even if she was at least showing her feelings now. He felt guilty for not pressing her harder before now. How many nights had she cried herself to sleep without anyone for comfort, without him even knowing about it? He felt angry at himself too, for not keeping the promise he made to be a comfort to Catherine whenever she needed it. Thank goodness he had decided to be bold and insist on seeing her tonight. He took a few tentative steps towards her bed.

"Catherine?" Another sob, a little louder this time. He reached the bed, and sat down behind her, reaching out to stroke her hair.

"Oh, my darling, don't cry…" At his words and his touch, Catherine lifted her face from the pillow, but she did not turn around, nor did she speak. Her sobs came faster, and she began to cry openly. Richard lay down next to her, curling his body around hers protectively as he tried his best to soothe her. He reached his arms around her body, searching for her hands to hold, which were buried in her pillow. When he found them, she was clutching the pearl necklace that Henry had given her before she had to push him away. He _knew_ she had been broken-hearted over it, all this time.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered softly behind her ear, dropping gentle kisses into her hair.

For a moment, Catherine couldn't speak, she was so overcome by her tears. After a moment, she managed a hoarse voice. "It hurt too much to think about it," she sobbed, "Talking about it would have been worse. I'm s-sorry I pushed you away along with Henry. I didn't mean to hurt you! I – I suppose I was too busy pushing my feelings down, and everything attached to them went too." And she turned in his arms and buried her face in his chest.

"My poor love." Richard held her close, rubbing her back and stroking her hair, relieved beyond measure to have her in his arms again where he was quite sure she belonged, "What you've been going through… You ought to have had my arms around you every time you felt this way!"

Her arms around him gave a little squeeze. "I am so glad of them now."

Shifting her body so that she lay tucked in tightly against his side, he pulled her leg over his, cradling her head into his neck, his arms wrapped around her. He felt the warm curve of her growing belly against his hip, and an unexpected tenderness washed over him. She let out a shuddery sigh, a mixture of heartache and relief, as she relaxed into his embrace.

"Please stay with me. I don't want to be alone tonight."

Richard reached behind her and pulled her coverlet over them both. He kissed her forehead and breathed in her sweet strawberry blonde hair.

"If I had my way, I would stay with you forever, and never leave you. You'd grow sick of the sight of me!" His chuckle rumbled through his chest and made her hum. "I will stay with you as long as I am able. But we can't be caught together, Catherine."

"I know," she responded sadly, "Please just hold me for now."

He held her, the love of his life, in his arms until she fell asleep, and as long as he dared beyond that. There was no greater privilege than holding her, comforting her, feeling each breath she took against his chest, watching the soft rise and fall of her back under the covers. The intensity of his love for her made him ache. When he became anxious that he would fall asleep, he knew it was time to leave. Easing out gently from underneath her leg, and disentangling her arms from his body, he slid off the edge of the bed. Pulling his pillow down from its place, still warm from him lying against it, he lifted her arm and pushed it snugly to her chest, curling her arm back around it. She stirred slightly, squeezing the pillow a little and snuggling in tighter. Richard brushed the loose curls from her cheek, and kissed her there. He kissed her temple, and her forehead, and then tucked the coverlet around her cosily.

Pausing at the door reluctantly, he looked back at the lovely creature in the bed. How he hated leaving her.


	20. Chapter 20

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _I'm so sorry to have to bring Diane back into the story – I see that you guys are not happy! I wanted to keep it true to the plot as best I could (well, using my imagination), and sadly Diane was part of that story. :( This is not an easy time for Catherine, but at least she has Richard. I adore Cathry, but going from Reign episode 1x11, it seems that she loved Richard as well as loving Henry – not just a quick fling. She called him "my heart". Sometimes I feel torn writing that in, because of how much I love Cathry, but it's in keeping with the story so I did it anyway. Just to explain! :) This chapter is M, so if that's not your thing, you can avoid this one and I'll be posting the next one in a few days! ;)_

 **Chapter 20**

Henry continued to flaunt Diane in front of Catherine, and Richard continued to go to her in the evenings to hold her and comfort her, sometimes through the secret passages, especially if it was very late, to avoid suspicion. Slowly, after several nights of his arms around her, she began to seem more contented, as though perhaps her heartache was lessening. When Richard asked about it, she admitted that it still hurt her no less to see Henry with Diane, but that Richard's outpouring of love was having a very healing effect. He was so grateful that she allowed him to comfort her.

Catherine mostly avoided Henry, wherever she could. Richard had pleaded with her not to engage him in arguments any more, as he was concerned that she shouldn't stress herself unnecessarily now that she was quite a way into her pregnancy, especially the physician was unaware of it, and it must remain that way. Sometimes she seemed to rise above everything that Henry threw her way, and other times she struggled. This particular afternoon, she was indeed struggling. Henry was in a jovial mood, happy to spout mild insults about Catherine to his friends and advisors, and make vaguely entertaining jokes that did not reflect well on her, all whilst she sat in the room – albeit on the far side, playing cards with two other ladies. She could hear everything he was saying, as Henry knew perfectly well. Diane was seated comfortably in his lap, and the whole situation must have been very unpleasant for Catherine. Richard too, trapped near to Henry in the gathering of their circle of friends, could hardly bear it, not just for Catherine's sake, but because of his own feelings of disgust that he was forced to push down and keep hidden. In order not to draw attention to himself over it, he also had to show amusement occasionally, responding to Henry's jokes – although he would rather lose his head than give any encouragement to Henry regarding his insulting comments about Catherine, and did his best to ignore Henry completely at those moments. Once his best friend, Henry was now the man he despised the most in the whole world, and yet he had to hide the fact and pretend that all was as it always had been.

He watched Catherine across the room, hoping that his expression would pass as unfeeling or neutral, and not betray the intense devotion that he was feeling as he looked at her. The conversation constantly turned in her direction, so he wasn't the only one casting glances her way, and it didn't seem out of place.

She was keeping a very regal appearance, much to Richard's pride and adoration. She appeared impenetrable to the unkind remarks from Henry's end of the room, and the only time Richard could discern a hint of difficult emotion in Catherine's demeanour was in the lift of her chin or the carefully controlled breath when Diane's asinine sniggering was heard.

At one point, when Richard was gazing across at her, she looked up and caught his eye. Keeping his face as neutral as possible, he tried with all his might to make his eyes tell hers, "I love you". Her expression did not change at all, but he saw a momentary softening of her eyes before her lashes fluttered and she looked away again.

As usual, that evening after dinner, he made his way through the secret passageways to Catherine's chambers. Listening carefully at the panel behind her wall, he waited to see if anybody was with her. There were no sounds, so he used their pre-arranged signal of one knock and two scratches. Three sharp taps answered him from somewhere in the room, so he pushed the panel and stepped through into her chambers.

There she stood, looking particularly ravishing in a long silk nightgown that clung to her blossoming shape. Her hair was loose down her back, and she was waiting for him with a seductive little smile that made Richard's knees turn to water. Usually, they spent their late evenings into the early hours cuddling in front of the fire, or he would hold her while they lay in bed, and they'd talk until she fell asleep. Comfort and companionship was their occupation, and he could tell it was doing Catherine good.

Tonight, though. She didn't look ready to cuddle by the fire tonight. He went over and embraced her. She held him close and buried her face in his neck, her lips kissing his skin. When they pulled back from each other a little, her eyes shone and her face glowed. She was gazing deep into him, and he was transfixed by her beauty. She was radiant. She unconsciously flicked out her tongue a little, licking her bottom lip as though she was slightly nervous about something, a mannerism of hers that he found so endearing, and strangely enticing tonight, it seemed. Taking a steadying breath, he remembered the ordeal she had been put through earlier that day.

"Catherine, I'm sorry you had to endure such terrible behaviour from the devil you're married to and his snake."

She gave a little huff of annoyance at the memory. "Yes, it was not something I would ever wish to repeat. If it hadn't been for the fact that I had an ally in the room…" she looked up at him, her eyes soft and loving, "the unhappy isolation would have been too much to bear."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, allowing his lips to linger there for a moment as he held her.

"You're dressed for bed," he pointed out. "Would you prefer to relax there rather than in front of the fire tonight? I don't mind, either way."

She placed a small hand on his chest, pausing thoughtfully, playing with the edge of his neckline where his shirt dipped down to his chest. Allowing her fingers to slip off the fabric and stroke his skin up towards his neck, she finally spoke softly. "I was thinking of a different kind of comfort tonight."

Richard looked down at her in surprise, realising what she meant. "You were?"

"Mmm-hmm…" Catherine kissed lightly at the exposed skin at the dip between his collar bones, and then stopped, pulling back a bit. "Unless you mind, of course." She seemed unconfident for a moment.

"Oh, I'll have to think about it," teased Richard playfully, lifting her chin to allow him to kiss her the way he'd been longing to kiss her for many weeks now. She sighed into the kiss and let her hands wander up his back and over his shoulders. This was definitely a side of Catherine that he hadn't seen in a while, and he was thrilled about it.

As their lips parted, Richard remembered the last time he had been intimate with Catherine in her chambers, and glanced nervously at the door.

"Shouldn't we - "

"I've already locked the door," she purred, kissing at his neck again.

"Catherine," he smiled, shedding his waistcoat at her encouragement, "What has brought this about?! I mean, I'm not complaining at a _ll_ , but… it's quite the change."

She smiled, working at the fastenings on his shirt. "Pregnancy is turning out to be quite surprising in some ways," she revealed. "There are times of exhaustion, but then come these - " she broke off, searching for the words she wanted, "these _surges_ \- of carnal desire, like nothing I've known before." She gave a little giggle as she pushed his shirt from his body. "I'm sure an attentive husband would be very useful at times like this, but as it is…"

Richard swallowed hastily. She was bewitching him, and he found her undressing him rather arousing. "I'm – uh - so glad to be here for you in your – time of need!" he managed.

Now she laughed properly, the lovely sound ringing off the stone walls of her chambers. Laughing with her, he pulled her close against him and looked into her eyes. So many emotions he had seen in those eyes – tear-filled sadness, worry, anger, confusion, lack of confidence, joy, surprise, and mischief. How he loved those eyes of hers. At this moment, they were lust-filled and he had never seen them quite like it before. It took his breath away with desire for her, as her eyes communicated to him how much she wanted him. He was quite sure that even at her most lustful, her desire for him could not compare with how much he wanted her.

He let his hands run down her back, smoothing her hips down as he took her rear in both hands and squeezed her through the silky fabric. She hummed her approval, and he loved the way the firm curve of her belly pressed against him – the fruit of their passion. Kneading gently at her backside, his fingertips stroked at the softest curve where her bottom joined her thighs at the insides of her legs. He knew she was sensitive here, and he loved the feel of her, and the way she tipped her hips, pushing her rear back against his hand to encourage him.

Catherine leaned into him slightly, pushing him in the direction of her bed, as she kissed him passionately. She had already removed his belt, and was in the process of undoing his trousers. Richard grunted with pleasure as her hand slipped down the front of his trousers and took hold of him. Meeting her lusty gaze, he smiled down at her.

"My, my," he chuckled, "Pregnancy really suits you, Catherine."

Keeping her hand where it was, she leaned in, taking his lips fervently in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless. "And who do I have to thank for that?!" she murmured with amused sarcasm.

Stripped of his clothes, Richard was fairly propelled by his lady onto the bed, where he watched entranced as she climbed up beside him and began to wriggle her silk nightgown up to her hips. She looked at him with fire in her eyes, holding the fabric bunched in her fingers, and climbed on top of him, her curls falling around her shoulders as she leaned forwards, straddling him with her thighs. Richard laid his hands upon them, and caressed her skin up their length towards her hips. A seductive smile curled at the corners of her lips, and she shed her nightgown up and over her head. Richard took a deep breath, staring at the goddess sitting astride him. Every curve of her body was absolute perfection. Her skin glowed soft in the golden light from the fire, which caught as sparkles in her honeyed eyes.

This was the first time he had actually seen her pregnant belly. He had seen her clothing change, and knew she must be growing, because her dresses allowed no glimpse of her shape below the chest. Catherine saw his gaze resting on it, and took his hands, gently laying them on the place where their child was.

"The baby moves often now," she said softly. "Given the situation, I really haven't been able to allow myself any joy over it, but it's hard to maintain a lack of feeling when I feel those tiny kicks."

At that moment, the skin fairly rolled beneath his fingers, and he felt a pop, like a little shock to his palm, softened by Catherine's supple flesh. He gasped his amazement, feeling surprisingly emotional at the sensation.

"It's miraculous!" he breathed, looking into her eyes. She nodded, smiling.

"What will happen," Richard asked, "after…"

"I will send the baby to an orphanage." Catherine spoke resolutely. "There is no way to reconcile things with the child at the castle, in our lives. I wish I didn't have to, but – there is no other way. This pregnancy is hidden, our affair is hidden. The child, too, must be hidden."

She looked so downcast suddenly, that Richard sat up, bringing himself flush with her body as she sat astride him. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her skin to his, making contact as closely as possible. He kissed her neck, nibbling her collar bone on his way to her breasts. She responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and running her fingers into his hair.

"I love you," he whispered, "I love you."

Catherine threw back her head and let him love her, as he worked her breasts with his lips and tongue, gasping and sighing her enjoyment of his efforts. She seemed so aroused, so quickly, that it wasn't long before she lifted her hips to reposition herself, pushing him back down on the bed, and slowly lowered herself down onto him. Firelight lit her form as she rode him, gently at first, and then increasingly vigorously. Her sounds of passion and pleasure fuelled the fire within him, as she gasped, moaned and even whimpered with the waves building inside her. As she approached her release, she made so much noise that Richard grew afraid of somebody overhearing, and shushed her softly. It was like a dream – the pleasure she was building in him, and the sight of her. Watching her from his position, straddling his hips with her beautiful thighs, ripe with his child, he felt as though the moment could not be real. For a second his memory flashed back to the early months when he first knew Catherine, when she had stolen his heart and he could barely breathe in her presence. How untouchable she seemed, and how impossible it felt to him that he might ever manage to hold a relaxed conversation with her, or survive an accidental brush against her! And now, here she was, his child in her womb conceived through their mutual passion, and she was riding him like a wild thing. She tossed her head back and moaned as her hips rolled against him. He watched her breasts bounce as she thrust down on him, and her back arch with the tension building in her body. He hoped that he could hold off for her, because she was torturing him to the brink like this.

Hushing her again as she cried out, he felt her begin to shudder. Her release triggered his own, and she collapsed onto him, his name falling from her lips in pleasure for the first time, as they clung to each other, gasping for breath. Catherine kissed at his chest, her arms holding him fervently.

"Richard," she whispered, almost in reply to his earlier statement, "I love you."

This time, they held each other all night, safe in each other's arms with the door locked. Richard stirred sometime before dawn and woke his beloved gently. He helped her into her nightgown, and dressed himself while she watched drowsily from her bed, her left cheek pink from having been pressed against his chest for hours as they slept. She looked so adorable to him in the dim light. He returned to her bed and kissed her languidly, laying her head back onto her pillow and brushing the loose curls from her face, before looking into her eyes and telling her, "I love you, Catherine de Medici."

She smiled up at him, stroking his face. "Thank you for loving me so," she whispered.

He kissed her again. "I'll see you later."

He stroked her treasured face, and turned, crossing the room to unlock the doors to her chambers, so that her lady in waiting would not find it locked when she came to attend to Catherine that morning. Then he left quietly through the secret passageway, heading for his own chambers to finish his night's sleep there.


	21. Chapter 21

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _Thank you for the reviews! I am bringing together some loose ends from 1x11 in this chapter. In the scene where Mary and Bash are at Agnes's house (the wet-nurse's mother), she told them about Catherine's pregnancy. Here's a quote from Agnes in that scene: "_ She turned for comfort to someone else. Never saw his face, but the notes, the secret letters that went back and forth as the time came for her to give birth – the orders to the ladies in waiting, the fear that the king would find out. She slapped one of the ladies – told her to be more careful. Servants are invisible to the high born. I saw how scared Catherine was, because it was the lover's child, not Henry's." _I wanted to make my story as authentic as possible with these little clues we were given, so here is Catherine growing more anxious as the time comes for her to give birth. Also reference to the court surgeon at the time, Jeane Nostredame, Nostradamus's father (thanks Wikipedia!)._

 _/_

 **Chapter 21**

The pale winter sun shone through the windows as Richard sat, passing another monotonous afternoon with Henry and their mutual friends. After a successful hunt that morning, they were relaxing together playing games, but as this always involved a certain degree of unflattering comments towards Henry's wife, Richard loathed these gatherings, and couldn't wait to escape them. Thankfully, Catherine wasn't there. She was keeping to her chambers these past few weeks wherever possible. She had cleverly arranged that most of her duties would involve paperwork for the time being. Being seated, and especially behind the desk in her chambers, prevented her pregnant shape from being revealed, and as this was something that Catherine was becoming increasingly anxious about, it was helping her state of mind to lay low for now. Of course, there were occasions where she had to appear at Henry's side, but these were far and few between lately, as Catherine had done such a good job of pushing Henry away that he had begun to choose Diane to accompany him officially on occasion instead of Catherine.

A servant entered the room, hovering anxiously in the background for a moment, before approaching Richard, who looked up in surprise. Richard rarely had messages brought for him, and the servant's intrusion had not escaped the notice of Henry either.

"What's this?" remarked Henry with interest.

"A – a message for Viscount de la Croix, my lord," stammered the servant. He handed Richard a note, folded and sealed without a distinguishing mark.

"Thank you." Richard dismissed the servant, who retreated quickly.

Henry was overcome with curiosity. "A message from whom?!" he wondered aloud, forgetting his game.

Richard knew that there would be nobody who might need to summon him other than perhaps Catherine, although she had not sent him notes before now. He felt suddenly anxious, worried that there was something wrong to have caused her to send for him in this way, but he could not let that show. He forced a mysterious smile and narrowed his eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know?!" he teased, and then with sudden inspiration, "There happens to be a lady…"

Henry rubbed his hands gleefully, thrilled to discover that his friend had finally found a lady to court after all these years.

"Who is she? Anyone I know at court?" Henry's eyes glinted with intrigue.

The irony of his question made Richard's insides turn over, but he kept a calm appearance as he stood and winked at Henry. "That, I cannot say," he murmured playfully. "Excuse me, gentlemen." And he hurried out of the room to read the note.

Unfolding it hastily, he read: "I need to see you. C."

He shoved the note in his breast pocket and went as quickly as he could to Catherine's chambers. Her lady, Beatrice, let him in when he knocked. Catherine looked up with an expression of little interest, and spoke to him casually, "Ah, you received my request? Thank you for coming so quickly. I require your advice on something rather urgently." She smiled and looked across at her lady. "Thank you Beatrice, that will be all."

Curtseying, her lady-in-waiting left the room. Richard watched the door close, and then looked to Catherine. She stood, crossing the room to him quickly, her face a mask of fear and concern.

"Catherine, what it is?!"

"Oh Richard! Beatrice came to tell me of an unsettling conversation she had overheard in the courtyard earlier this afternoon. She said that Lady Eleanor and Lady Marie were talking about me, so she listened in more carefully, to be able to report anything that I might need to hear." She paused for breath.

"Please, calm yourself Catherine, I don't like to see you getting so tense about things. What did they say?"

"There appears to be a rumour that I am with child – I have no idea if it comes solely from the minds of these two idle busy-bodies, or whether it has been heard from another source and passed around. But, now I am under scrutiny! I could be found out if the rumour persists!"

Richard guided Catherine by her shoulders, encouraging her to sit down on her chaise and take a deep breath. He could see that she was really anxious about the whole thing.

"But we've managed to deceive everybody until now. Surely we can maintain it a while longer?"

"Yes, but Richard, it becomes harder and harder to hide as the pregnancy progresses! My size and shape can hardly be concealed any longer, and they were saying that they had not seen me wearing a corseted dress for some months! Lady Marie was apparently commenting on the glow of my skin and the amount of food I consumed at the recent banquet! I can try to eat more modestly, but there's nothing I can do about the pregnant radiance, is there?!"

Richard smiled for a moment, taking her in his arms, loving her beyond words all of a sudden. She was so adorable in her fretting state – though he realised his appreciation was not exactly helpful at this moment.

"You've always been radiant to me," he mused with affection. "I don't think those ladies have been watching you for long enough."

Catherine swatted him away with mild impatience. "Richard, be serious!" she warned. "This could be a problem."

"Of course, you're right," he consented. "But Catherine, you are not to go eating less food. You need it."

"I'll make up for it in my chambers if I have to eat less in public, don't worry," she reassured him. "The baby would not give me much choice in the matter!"

"But the fact that there are rumours…" Richard was thoughtful.

"Yes. I feel that I will have to be on my guard. What if the rumours reach Henry?!" She clutched at his sleeve. "Richard, there would be nothing to be done! He would simply demand to put the rumours to rest and if he even so much as held me in his arms or observed me while I was getting up from sitting, my shape would be obvious immediately, now that I am this size." She gestured to the roundness that was her belly, and then leaned against Richard tiredly.

"I have been calculating that there must be perhaps a month to go now, maybe a little less. I am going to need to be out of sight more than I used to be, and to keep to my chambers more. People mustn't see me walking in the hallways or getting up. What shall I do?! Henry can't find out!"

She trembled in his arms at the thought, and Richard held her close. "We'll figure something out," he soothed. "It'll be okay."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Late that night, alone in her chambers, Catherine and Richard made plans to include her most trusted ladies-in-waiting in the secret. Never would the father of her child be revealed, but Catherine needed support – ladies who would be able to attend to her needs as the time came near for her to give birth. Her lady Beatrice was the only one who knew of her pregnancy, and that was only recently revealed, as Catherine had been insisting on dressing herself and being left alone to take her baths for many months. In recent weeks, she had become too large and ungainly to bathe alone, and needed help reaching her shoes over her pregnant shape. But she would need attending during her labour and after the birth too, and that would require more than just Beatrice. Her ladies would need to cover for her lack of appearance with the rest of French Court, and somebody trustworthy would be required to take the baby to an orphanage, without anybody knowing about it. They would need to be sworn to secrecy over the whole affair, and in particular, Henry must never find out.

"They will know though, won't they?" Catherine cast a worried glance at Richard. "If my own husband isn't to find out, it will be obvious that the child isn't his." She sighed deeply. "But, there's nothing to be done about that now."

Richard took her hands in his. "Let me take some of the burden for you, Catherine," he offered. "I can deliver messages perhaps? Or make enquiries about the journey to the orphanage? It's the only way I can provide for my child, and for you. You shouldn't have to be dealing with everything yourself."

Catherine took a deep breath, tracing his fingers with her own, avoiding his gaze. "I'm beginning to wonder if it might be best if I leave…"

Richard sat back abruptly. He had not expected her to say this. "What do you mean?"

"You remember how we talked about finding a carefully concealed location here at the castle for me to give birth? And to allow the court surgeon, Jeane Nostredame, to know about my condition, so that he would be able to attend me during the birth?"

Richard nodded, unsure of what she meant to suggest.

"I wonder if the castle might not be the safest place for me to give birth." Catherine traced her bottom lip with her fingernail thoughtfully as she continued, "Perhaps it is time for me to enter into my confinement?"

"But where?" Richard was perplexed. "How could you possibly leave the castle for any length of time without Henry knowing about it?"

"I found out from one of my ladies that there is a village a few hours ride from the castle, where I would be safe. Agnes, one of the midwives, knows it well. She told Beatrice that there is a farmhouse that is unoccupied at the moment, fairly remote but attached to the village. She would be able to rent it for a short while and stay with my ladies and I, if we should have need to go there."

Richard sat back, taking in what she had said. "You've thought this through before, haven't you?"

Catherine nodded, her gaze shifting away from his for a moment. "I had to consider an alternative plan."

"But how would you get leave to go?"

"Henry despises my family. He knows they have been meaning to visit for some years, and although he seems willing for them to come, perhaps it's time I suggested a less…. _stressful_ alternative for him – that I should pay a visit to _them_."

Richard smiled, proud of her thoughtfulness. "You're so clever!" he praised. She smiled back, accepting his flattery graciously.

"I don't think Henry would be pleased for me to go, all the same. But it is a plausible reason, and if I am persuasive enough…"

"Let's hope he agrees. You might be able to leave within a week or two?"

She nodded. "That's my intention."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard listened at the panel, keeping perfectly still. He needed to know how this conversation went. He could hear their voices quite clearly.

"It would only be for a few weeks, Henry. I can't see why this is a problem!" Her voice sounded higher-pitched than usual.

"Your family can visit you here at the castle any time. Why should they demand that you visit them elsewhere?! Your place is here, at my side, Catherine. If you are away, it really should only be when my duties call me away, and you accompany me as my consort."

"My ladies would accompany me – I would hardly be alone. _You_ travel without me all the time!"

"That's different, and you know it. Think what people would say!"

" _Think what people would say?!"_ Richard's heart sank as he heard his feisty Catherine losing control of her temper. Of course she had every right to be infuriated at his choice of words, but he hoped she would keep calm so that it wouldn't escalate into an argument that could potentially do harm to her in her pregnant state, or anger Henry and prevent the outcome they had hoped for.

" _Think what people would say?!_ " she repeated, incensed. "You've got some nerve! Flaunting Diane on your lap at official meetings, taking trips for _months_ at a time with _her_ at your side, while your wife sits and waits for your return at the castle! I could tell you a lot about what people say! A simple and, I might say, short visit to my family should not incur any sort of gossip, at least not on the scale of what _your_ actions bring upon us!"

Richard held his breath, waiting to see how Henry would respond. It was never easy to predict. He could lash out angrily, or he could consider quietly – you never could tell which. Fortunately for Catherine, Henry seemed in a reasonable state of mind.

"Fine," he replied shortly, "but no more than two weeks. If you leave tomorrow, you would return in good time for the Duke's upcoming nuptials in three weeks. I will not have a ceremony without my wife at my side – it would not reflect well."

Richard heard Catherine sigh gratefully. "Thank you, Henry." There came the sound of footsteps, as though Henry was leaving the room, and then they paused.

"Catherine?" Another pause. "Is that a new dress? I don't recall seeing it before."

"Yes – well, not as such…" Catherine sounded a little perturbed. "It's one I've had for a while. I – I had Annemarie alter it to include some of the latest fashions I heard about from my family in Italy. The new styles flow so elegantly, don't you think?"

"Hmmm." Henry barely grunted his response, before remarking briskly, "Wear something closer fitting for the Duke's wedding, Catherine. I don't think French court is quite ready for the latest Italian fashions." His heels clicked purposely across the floor, and then Richard heard the sound of the door opening and closing. He waited a moment, and then knocked his signal at the panel. Instead of tapping back, Catherine appeared at the panel, leaning in and kissing him.

"We shall have to talk later," she said breathlessly. "I don't want Henry to chance coming back and finding you here." Richard nodded. "I expect you heard everything we said?" He nodded again. "I am so relieved, Richard! Now I must gather my ladies and have them pack for my confinement. You've arranged at the village? As Beatrice suggested?"

"I have." Richard took hold of her wrist earnestly. "Oh Catherine, if only I could accompany you! I would feel so much better knowing that I could keep you protected."

"Richard, we've been over this, my love. You cannot afford to be seen by anyone who could tie you to me, even my ladies. No-one must know."

"You will write to me? And tell me how things are going? I don't think I can bear this place without you in it, and I shall be driven insane without word from you to reassure me that you are well."

She smiled, her hand brushing his cheek. "Of course I will."


	22. Chapter 22

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _This chapter brings in an aspect that Nostradamus mentioned in 1x11 when he was imprisoned and told Catherine about Clarissa. He said to her, "It was the year of the Great Storm. My father came home through the floods with a newborn in his arms…" I am having so much fun pulling the pieces of this episode into my story! I hope you are enjoying it too! I'm so grateful and thrilled with the kind reviews – thank you!_

 _/_

 **Chapter 22**

Two days later, Richard was restless, unable to settle to any task or activity for missing Catherine and worrying about how she was. Henry, drinking wine with Diane draped revoltingly over his arm, spoke up.

"Richard, what _is_ the matter with you lately? You're positively melancholy! Come on, man, drink some wine and be merry!"

Richard sat up straight, pulled from his daydreaming.

"Nothing, I'm sure," he reassured Henry. "I think it is the weather, or something. Doesn't it look like bad weather approaching?" He gestured at the window with concern in his tone, and Henry turned to follow his gaze.

"I suppose it does, now that you mention it. Probably just a storm. The horses seemed unsettled this afternoon too."

Richard sighed, looking out wistfully at the dreary view, worrying about Catherine being away from the castle during a storm, even though he was sure she was safe and cosy with her ladies in the house he had arranged for her. He had been anxious that she wanted to be so near to the castle, but she had told him that she may as well be at a village fairly nearby to give birth, since Henry thought her gone to Italy. What difference did it make therefore whether she was near or far? It seemed to make sense to him, and it meant a less lengthy and arduous journey, the closer she remained to the castle, so he had agreed. He did so wish that she was still within the castle walls, though, where he could see her and know that she was safe. In only two days since she had left, the castle seemed dull and dreary without her presence. Nothing motivated him, and even cheerful exploits no longer held any pleasure for him.

"Seems like you're lovesick to me!" Henry teased him, and Richard startled out of his reverie at the word 'lovesick', conditioned to be wary of any suspicion on Henry's part. Then he remembered that Henry thought the notes from Catherine were to do with a lady that had won his favour, and he decided the best thing would be to play along.

Sighing, he managed a sad smile. "You know me too well, my friend." Well, at least he was speaking the truth, even if Henry didn't realise that it was Catherine he was lovesick for, not a fictional lady.

"Has she not yet accepted an invitation to court?" Henry wondered.

"She hasn't had the opportunity, and she is fairly shy of a bustling society such as French court," replied Richard. "Perhaps one day she will come."

"For the Duke's wedding, perhaps?"

"I – I shouldn't think so. It's so soon, and I don't know that she will be able to attend, even if she was eager for all the politics and backstabbing of court!" He laughed, trying to make light of the situation, hoping that Henry would drop the subject, as it was making him uncomfortable. Henry did have a way of probing with questions, and he didn't want to show any sign of being uneasy about answering them. Even with Catherine away, he had to be careful to protect her at all times.

/-/-/-/-/-/

The weather did indeed turn out to be stormy. It was the worst storm the region had seen in over two decades. Strong winds and heavy rain lashed the landscape, and the sea was whipped into a constant foaming motion, the high waves sending the spray over the coastal wall into the woodland by the castle. Lowland areas flooded, and the nearest village was inaccessible due to the floods. Still the gales blew and the rain drenched the land in torrents. There seemed no end in sight to the storm, and the King declared an order that nobody should leave the safety of the castle, which was thankfully set on high ground, to venture into the woods or the villages surrounding them. Essential journeys for supplies were permitted, but everyone at court was very much stuck, restless and fretful due to the weather.

Richard was grateful that at least his mood would not be noticed, given the situation. He could barely sleep for worrying about Catherine. He had written to her twice in the days after she left, and had received, with great joy and relief, a letter in return, written so that it could be passed off as a letter from his "lady" if anyone else should happen upon it.

 _"My dearest Richard,_

 _Thank you for your letter. It brings me such joy to know that you are thinking of me, especially as I find myself in quite the most boring situation, and with little worthwhile company. I would infinitely prefer yours, and I think of you often as I wait. I do hope it won't be long now._

 _Agnes discovered from the local villagers that there is a storm coming. We are well positioned in the event of flooding – you are not to worry yourself on my account! The house is well stocked, and I am being well cared for._

 _Take care to stay cheerful without me, dearest. Your letter made it most clear to me that you are missing me, and I miss you too. But please, be patient – it is only for a short while. I shall write again soon._

 _Your Beloved."_

He kept the letter with him at all times. Since the storm had begun, of course, only urgent messages were allowed to be sent from the castle, and he had not received any further letters from Catherine. He hated the separation, and felt some evenings as though he might pace a hole in the carpet of his chambers, listening to the wind wail and longing for Catherine. He worried constantly – what if the weather grew worse? Would she be at risk, even as well positioned as she was? What if something happened to her during the delivery of their child? Would the midwife be able to attend her? How would he know if something happened to her? He couldn't stand not knowing.

Henry, in particular, seemed to notice Richard's agitation growing on a daily basis, pressing him with questions until finally Richard told him that the latest letter from his lady indicated that she might be in difficulties, and he was anxious to go to her. Hope flared within him that perhaps Henry would make it possible that he could leave the castle and perhaps find news of Catherine. Henry agreed, but it was still impossible to leave with the weather so terrible. The whole area was flooded, and most of the roads impassable.

At last, the rain ceased and the winds died down. The Great Storm, as it had become known, was over. Sunshine reflected across the waterlogged land, and from the tower it was possible to see the extent of the severity of the flooding. Henry insisted that Richard wait another day for the flooding to recede a little, and so he did, with great agitation and impatience.

Finally, early the next morning as the sun was just rising, Richard set out on horseback to go to Catherine. He relished the escape from the walls of the castle that had so entrapped him for a week, and the fresh air and sunshine made him feel alive again. He had purpose! He would find out how Catherine was, and perhaps even see her, if it was possible. He rode all morning, glad of the fact that the roads from the castle were, so far, on high enough ground to have escaped the flooding. Around noon, he came to a large area of surface water. He was a long way from the river, but even so, it appeared that this was some sort of overflow from it. The water was clear, as though the land was covered in a natural lake, and he stopped to water his horse and eat some of the provisions he had brought with him for the journey.

After resting briefly, Richard made his way around the flooded area, taking a short cut across the fields that were raised up the hill a little. Rounding the crest of the hillside, he was able to take stock of his next move. He could see that the road to the village where Catherine was staying, was non-existent – covered with floodwater for the present. By riding across the open land and through the copse to the east, he should be able to reach the village well before sunset. The thought of being closer to Catherine spurred him on.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard made good time, and arrived at the outskirts of the village before the sun was low in the sky. He knew where Catherine was staying, as he had arranged the house himself. It was rather remote, within some farmland, acres to the north of the village. That had been the benefit of the place – the more remote, the better. He knew that he couldn't just ride up to the house and be seen by Catherine's ladies. She had been very clear that he wasn't to be seen, and he did not want to worry her. If he could somehow find out if she had yet had the child? And whether she was well or not. He shuddered to think of the latter. Stopping at the small inn in the centre of the village, Richard arranged for his horse to be fed and watered. The stable hand was very willing, and while he refreshed himself, Richard thought of an idea.

Disappearing into the inn, and returning a short while later with a note, sealed roughly with a blot of unmarked wax, he handed it to the stable hand, asking him, "Could you arrange for this to be delivered to the unoccupied farm house up the hill? It's being let by Agnes Lignier, and I have been asked to send her this. I'm just passing through, myself."

The stable hand took the note, pocketing it, and answered, "Of course, my lord. It will be delivered for you without delay."

"Please wait for the reply, if there should be any. I will stay here tonight."

"Yes, my lord."

Richard breathed in deeply as he watched the stable hand mount a horse and canter off in the direction of the farm house where, God willing, his beloved waited to hear from him. He had written, simply:

" _Catherine. I am staying in the village tonight, hoping to hear that you are well_."

He knew that she would understand who it was from, and hoped that if it was read by any of her ladies, they would not have any clues from the note as to the sender.

He waited, pacing the stables at first, and then trying to relax in the courtyard, for the stable hand to return, and at length, he did. He handed Richard a note, and Richard paid him and thanked him. He waited until the man had gone, before he opened the note.

" _Dearest Richard, I am well. I have told my ladies that I will have a lone visitor on horseback just before sunset, and they are not to answer the door – I shall do so myself. They are to stay in their rooms until you leave. Please come quickly. With love, Catherine."_

Richard could scarcely breathe for the excitement and anticipation of seeing his Catherine again – and she was well! How thankful he was! The sun was sinking low in the sky, and he knew Catherine had arranged the time with her ladies so that he could come to see her immediately. He retrieved his horse from the stables and set off at once.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

The route to the farm house was over open land, but it was an easy ride, for it was situated up the hillside somewhat, and had escaped any flooding. The ground was wet, but not waterlogged, and Richard was thankful not to encounter any delays. He arrived at the farm house before too long, seeing the smoke rising from the chimney and the glow of firelight. He put up the hood of his cloak, just in case for some reason Catherine couldn't answer the door to him herself, or perhaps one of her ladies was watching from a window unseen. Tying his horse to the nearby shelter which was well supplied with fresh hay, Richard drew his cloak close around him and knocked at the door of the farm house, waiting for a response.

After some moments, a bolt was drawn back, and the door opened cautiously. There she stood – his Catherine. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she wore thick chamber robes, swathed snugly around her, reaching to the floor. She didn't say a word or even smile at him, she simply put out a small hand from the layers of robes, and took Richard by the wrist, pulling him gently into the house, and closing and bolting the door after him. Then she turned and led him down a long passageway to a door which opened up into a cosy room. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace, and it was warm and inviting with candles recently lit in readiness for dusk, as the sun was beginning to set. There were comfortable armchairs around the room, but Catherine led him to the large bed in the corner of the room, piled with pillows and warm blankets. She pushed some of them aside to make space, before shedding her chamber robe and draping it over a nearby chair.

Now that she was wearing only a nightgown, Richard could plainly see that she was no longer with child, and he looked up at her, his mouth open with surprise, and his eyes questioning and concerned.

"Catherine, what - " he began, but she held up her hand, eyes closed, and he could see then that she was struggling to compose herself. He waited, worried for her. She sat beside him. She would not look at him, and she fidgeted constantly with the lace edging on the cuffs of her nightgown. Finally, she took a careful, steady breath.

"The child was born during the storm. There were no complications, and my ladies sent for Jaume Nostredame in any case. He was not at court at the time because of the storm, and he lives near the woods only a couple of hours ride from here, towards the castle. He is sworn to secrecy, of course, and I trust him."

She paused. Richard did not know what to say, so he kept silent and waited for Catherine to continue. He wished so badly that he could hold her. It was as though he knew she needed it. But she needed to speak first, to tell him what had happened.

"While I was in labour… I – I had a change of heart. I don't know what it was – the intensity of the situation, perhaps. Knowing the moment was almost upon me to meet the child and have it taken to the orphanage almost immediately. I just… couldn't do it." She began to wring her hands as she recounted her experience, staring out at the fire. "I thought perhaps there would be a way to have the baby brought to the castle, as though it had been found nearby." She gave a shaky laugh at herself. "I know that's ridiculous – the obvious thing would be to take such a child to an orphanage, even if it was brought to the castle. But I couldn't see that at the time…. I thought – I thought that I wouldn't need to show any connection to it. Nothing could tie the child to me, and the wet-nurses could care for it. We would not have to send our own child away."

For the first time since he had arrived, Catherine's eyes flicked to Richard, and she touched his hand softly with her fingertips. Then the moment passed, and she went back to twisting her fingers agitatedly in her lap.

"I had planned for Nostredame to take the child and pretend that he had discovered it, bringing it to the castle – even while I remained here. It would cast even less suspicion on me that way. He agreed. I felt so relieved about it." She picked at her cuticles. "I wished I had thought of it before."

"What happened?" Richard needed to know.

"I laboured overnight." Catherine stared miles beyond the fire that she was looking into. "Everything went very well. The wind howled and it seemed like the rain would fairly sweep the house away. And it hurt. More than I expected. I thought of you," her voice cracked slightly and Richard fought the urge to sweep her up in his arms and protect her from whatever was hurting her. "I thought of all these months and all the fear, and how it was nearly behind us. I thought of your love for me, and it kept me going through that long night. But when the child was finally born… Richard, she - "

"She? A girl?!" interrupted Richard, his voice filled with wonder and pride. At the sound of his awe and joy, Catherine began to cry, and he wished he had not spoken out of turn.

"She had a birthmark, Richard. _Your_ birthmark – the one that runs in your family." She pushed fretfully at the tears as they ran down her cheeks, and swatted Richard's hands away when he tried to touch her, too overwhelmed for the moment, having not yet finished telling him everything.

"Where?" he asked.

Catherine took a shaky breath. "Above her lip on one side," she explained. "It ran up her cheek." She paused for a moment, her head bowed, tears falling onto the lap of her nightgown. "It was so conspicuous – anyone who knew you well enough would have known she was yours, especially Henry! I panicked." She gasped a sob, wiping at her face with her hands, her voice thick with emotion as she continued. "I – I told Nostredame to – to take the child, and - " she sobbed, crying freely now, "and fix her face."

Richard laid his hand on her knee. "Fix it? How?"

"I don't know! I didn't know! I just – he's the court surgeon. I don't know what I thought. I just thought if anyone could take the mark away, he could."

Richard could hardly bear it for her. He dared not even think of his child, and what became of her after that, but he did not blame Catherine for her choice. She was tormented enough by her decision, and he loved her too fiercely to think ill of her for any reason. He swallowed, steadying himself to ask the question he needed to ask.

"Catherine. What became of the child?"

She lifted her face, wet with tears. Her shoulders trembled, and her voice shook as she answered, but she did not look at Richard.

"Nostredame took her that very morning," she said. "I waited all these days – they seemed as though they stretched into months, and I had no way of contacting you with the storm and the flooding." Her tears began to fall again, and he took her hand, rubbing her fingers gently with his thumb. "I had no idea what was happening with the baby – Nostredame didn't send word."

"It's alright," Richard whispered, trying to reassure her.

"Then, this morning, he came." She went silent, her tears temporarily stemmed. "I knew. When I saw him without the child, I knew." She paused. "He told me that the baby had died of natural causes, and that he was very sorry."

"Oh _Catherine._ Oh my darling…" Richard wrapped his arm around her slender, still-trembling shoulders, pulling her into his embrace. She seemed wooden at first, unyielding to his efforts to comfort her, her breath coming fast and shallow as she fought within herself over something he could not understand. Then, as he kissed her soft hair and her tear-stained cheek, she melted into him. Sobs racked her body and he held her fast, as she clutched his shirt, burying her face into it to muffle her sounds. He wept too. Her grief was too much for him to bear, loving her as he did, and his child – _their_ child… It was all such a shock.

"Richard," she wept, clinging to him, "I wish – I just keep thinking that, if I had only kept her here with me instead of sending her away! I could have enjoyed her for the few days that she lived, and the outcome would have been the same, except I would have loved her!"

"No, love. You can't think like that." She looked into his eyes at last, and Richard could see her fear. Her eyes widened in surprise at his tears. "I understand _why_ you are dwelling on those thoughts, but Catherine, you didn't know. How could you have known any of this? You did what you thought best at the time."

Catherine's pain was evident in her eyes as she gazed into him. "Richard…" She sounded broken. "I'm so sorry. I know you must be angry with me…" She looked down at her lap. Richard took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him squarely.

"I am not." His voice was firm. "Your reasons were valid, and you had no-one to support you in your choices as you were giving birth! You must not think of yourself so badly, my love. I do not blame you, and I can't rest knowing that you are blaming yourself either. I _love_ you!"

She relaxed, then, weeping more quietly, as though she was all but spent. Richard was sure that she must have been carrying anxiety about telling him all these days, and he was relieved for her that she could let go of that now. Letting go of their child, and the decisions she had made – that would take far longer, he thought to himself. He was determined to support her and love her to the best of his ability while she worked through her grief. He was more glad than ever that she was away from the castle, from Henry and from duty. She would have to return very soon, but this respite at least might afford her the space she needed to regain some strength to face the coming days and weeks.

He pulled her back against him, reclining on her bed, his arms around her holding her close. Kissing her forehead, he spoke softly.

"I have missed you so, Catherine – you have no idea how much! There seemed no point to anything without you at the castle. I nearly went mad for lack of your presence. Even Henry noticed."

Catherine's tears stopped flowing abruptly as she turned in his arms to see his face, worried by his words. Her voice was husky from crying as she asked him, "What did he say?!"

"Don't worry," Richard reassured her, "he suspected that I was lovesick, and I told him that I was pining for a lady who had not yet come to court – the same one that he thought was responsible for the notes and letters." Catherine sighed with relief, sniffling and settling back into his embrace, as Richard continued. "It was the perfect excuse in the end. I didn't have to hide my heartache, and eventually when I couldn't bear having no news of you after the storm passed, I told Henry that I needed to see if my lady was safe." He smiled at the memory. "You can't imagine my joy at being able to actually tell him the truth! He needn't know that the lady was you, of course." He kissed her hair and stroked it lovingly. "If I could have come to you sooner, I would have. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me."

"It's alright. You couldn't have known what was happening, and with the storm… In any case, you're here now, and I didn't even expect you to come. I'm so grateful, Richard." She turned teary eyes up to his, and placed a kiss on his palm as he stroked her cheek.

"May I come to see you again tomorrow?"

"I don't know…" Catherine traced his knuckles and the shape of his fingers with her fingertips. "I do so want you – I _need_ you by my side right now, but I – I just can't risk our being discovered."

Richard nodded, "I understand. You're wise to consider it so thoughtfully." He kissed her fingers, one by one. "I shall ride back to the castle tomorrow and report to Henry that my beloved is safe and that I hope she will be coming to court soon." He gave a short chuckle.

"My ladies and I will stay another day or two. I am recovering well, physically, but little longer to rest without the pressures of French court would do me good."

"Then I will leave you, my darling." He hesitated, and she looked up at him questioningly. "May I – can't I stay and hold you until you fall asleep, like we used to? I will let myself out, and wear my hood up so as not to be recognised. I just want to comfort you."

Catherine smiled up at him, nodding, her cheeks damp still, but her eyes brighter and more at peace. She settled into his arms, and he pulled the covers up, loving his lady until she slept, and leaving her with a kiss.


	24. Chapter 24

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _It killed me to write Catherine in so much emotional pain! Thank you for hanging in there, despite our poor Queen's sufferings! And I do SO dislike Diane, even though she's a part of Catherine's story. Apologies in advance!_

 **Chapter 24**

"Catherine. You're back." Henry had a swagger in his walk as he crossed the cobbled courtyard. His wife ignored him, acknowledging his presence at her arrival with a raise of one eyebrow and nothing more.

"Did you miss me?" he asked her, with a hint of sarcasm, as Catherine made her way into the castle followed by her ladies and servants carrying her luggage. She walked with brisk elegance, and she took Richard's breath away with her flawless beauty. She strode down the corridor with her chin raised, her beautiful hair piled up in swirls of strawberry blonde on the back of her head, loose wisps of curls floating back in the breeze that she made as she swept along. Nobody would know she had just given birth and lost her child. Richard was in awe of her strength.

Richard watched them approach from the corridor along with a good number of other onlookers, and stayed back out of the way. His heart was so glad that she was back where she belonged, and that he would be able to see her and be available to her whenever it was needed by either of them. He hadn't realised just how much tension he had been carrying over her being away, until he felt it lift off him upon her return.

Increasing the pace of his strides, Henry caught up to Catherine and continued talking. "So, how's the family? Still just as cold-hearted as the last time, hmm?"

" _Why is he enjoying this so much?_ " thought Richard to himself.

Catherine stopped, gave a little huff of a laugh, and swivelled regally on her heel to face her husband, her head held high as she looked up at him.

"How kind of you to welcome me back so attentively, Henry!" Leaning slightly to one side, to look over Henry's shoulder, seeing Diane slinking up behind her husband, she added sarcastically, "And Diane! What an honour!"

Slipping her arm through Henry's, Diane smiled without feeling. "You look pale, Catherine. Was it really such a trying visit with the Medicis?"

Catherine faltered only slightly, her eyes flicking from Diane's to Henry's, and then away for a second, before she regained her façade and answered smoothly, "It was a long and tiring journey home. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to retire to my chambers to unpack and freshen up."

She turned from them and strode down the corridor with her ladies following, passing Richard with just the briefest exchange of a glance.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard leaned back into his pillows, lazily stroking Catherine's freckled shoulders as he held her in his arms. He felt so complete with her there, and he had almost forgotten the anguish of the time that she had been away, even only two days into having her back again. His door was locked, and the afternoon sun shone in long shafts across his chambers. Catherine had been resting in her chambers, as far as anybody else was to know, but had come to Richard through the secret passageways instead. Being close to her, with her skin against his, seemed like the perfect way to spend an afternoon. There was nothing sexual about it – Catherine was still healing from the birth in any case – but simply intimacy and connection for comfort. He loved her so much.

He kissed her shoulder, and then her jawline, and the curve of her ear.

"You seem thoughtful?" he noticed. She had been quiet for some time.

"Henry came to me last night."

"Oh." Richard hadn't expected that to come up yet.

"Mmm." Catherine nodded a little against his chest, thoughtful and serious. "He wanted to stay with me."

"So soon?"

She watched her fingers brush the hair on his chest absently. "I had to turn him away, of course." She gave a sigh. "I told him I was having my monthly bleeding. I suppose it was the closest thing to the truth."

"What did he say?" Richard wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"He seemed a little frustrated, but he didn't say much about it. Just left my chambers." She sat up, turning to look at him. "Richard, now that I know I can conceive a child…" she broke off, looking at her hands in her lap, turning them and tracing the curve of her fingernails. "I wonder why I haven't yet with Henry?"

Richard smiled at her encouragingly, wanting to keep her from worrying again about providing Henry with a child. "Perhaps now you will."

"But… what if the problem was never me, but Henry? I can't ever offer my proof that I am able to bear a child, and nobody will ever consider that it is the future King who can't impregnate his wife. I may yet be in danger, even having carried _your_ child in my womb."

Richard pulled her back down into his embrace. "Don't think about it for now, love. You are still recovering. Give your body a chance to heal, and then who knows? It may yet surprise you!" He kissed her temple and, when she turned her face to him, her lips. She smiled, and settled her head into the curve of his neck.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard had wanted to see Catherine all day, though there hadn't been any opportunity to do so. With one thing or another, preparing for the Duke's wedding the next day, and needing to be disassociated with Catherine, there was no time at all. He hoped that she would not be asleep too early, and that he would be able to go and see her late that night. Something pulled at him that evening, as though she needed him, and although he knew it was ridiculous, and likely just an association from the time she was away, he could not shake it off.

At last, as the castle occupants were retiring to sleep for the night, Richard saw Henry heading for his chambers. His stride was heavy and his expression was thunderous, and Richard was glad that he wasn't heading for Catherine's chambers in such a state! If he could have mustered any such feeling for her, he would have rather pitied Diane this night! He made quickly for Catherine's chambers, seizing the chance to visit her before bed.

The hallway was deserted outside her doors, and he knocked boldly. She did not answer, but when he knocked again, she called out, "Who is it?"

"Richard. May I enter?"

"Yes, come in."

He went in, closing the door behind him. He was horrified to see Catherine curled on her chaise, crying her eyes out. She didn't attempt to hold back her tears from him, and he was glad of that at least. He went to her side quickly, and knelt beside her, smoothing her hair back from her wet cheeks, and kissing her softly.

"Catherine, what is it?!"

"Henry came again to see me this evening. I had to refuse him, and tell him that I am still bleeding. He - " she broke off with a sob, and then took a calming breath before continuing, "He accused me of lying to him to avoid having to sleep with him." She sniffled. "Of course he would expect that my monthly bleeding would have stopped by now, so I suppose that's the conclusion he came to."

"Don't make excuses for him, Catherine." Richard seethed at his friend, hating him for what he was putting Catherine through, ignorant or not.

Her eyes flicked to his, holding his gaze sharply, though they were still wet with tears.

"He was frustrated, I suppose. He lectured me about duty, and about the hypocrisy of not doing mine when I had pushed him so hard to do his duty towards conceiving an heir all these years."

She sighed, and a fresh wave of tears came over her. Richard leaned the top of her body up off the chaise so that he could sit where she had been lying, and then helped her lay back down, her head in his lap, cradling her lovingly, and stroking her hair. "Go on," he encouraged her in a gentle voice.

"Richard, I don't know how – When Henry left, he was so angry, and then he turned back and told me, _"You might as well know, Diane is pregnant. Perhaps now you can stop making me perform with all these ridiculous medicines, and focus on fixing yourself."_ I will never forget his words, or how they hurt me to hear them."

Richard was utterly torn between wanting to clench his fists with rage at his former friend, and softening himself to comfort his broken treasure with gentleness. He felt so incensed at Henry's words towards Catherine that he actually trembled with anger over it. Looking down at Catherine though, her head in his lap, tears slanting down her nose and over her cheek onto his legs, her eyes full of hurt and sorrow, he composed himself instantly, and gave his anger over to comforting her. _"I suppose love is the greater emotion,"_ he mused as he held her and soothed her pain.


	25. Chapter 25

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _I hope you are hanging in there with this story! I am almost at the point where I have no more chapters written, but it isn't quite finished yet. Thank you for the reviews!_

 **Chapter 25**

In the months that followed, Richard watched along with all of French Court as Diane flaunted her pregnancy before Catherine at every opportunity, always waiting to discuss the latest fashion in clothing designed to accommodate a growing pregnancy with other ladies around her _just_ as Catherine would enter the room. Or laughingly refer to her increasing appetite or her shape within Catherine's hearing. Richard bristled with anger towards the horrible woman – he hated her for Catherine's sake, and he knew Catherine hated her more still. But Catherine herself remained dignified and polite, and once again, Richard was reminded of how wonderful and admirable she was, and how much he loved her, every time he saw her breathe in, lift her chin, and smile at Diane. He better loved her eye rolls as she turned away, and the way she occasionally left the room muttering something that definitely included the word "whore" under her breath. She lit him up with desire when she had that kind of fire in her, especially when it was reined in by the need for polite decorum! When she had to contain her fire under the surface of such strength and elegance, those were the nights he would go to her and help her to release those tensions, with a passion unmatched by their previous encounters. He loved Catherine's feisty side!

Of course, now that she was physically fully recovered from the birth of her baby daughter, Catherine had again taken Henry into her bed in order to try to conceive an heir for the French throne. At first, Richard knew that it had been a terrible blow to her confidence to hear of Diane's pregnancy, but after the initial shock had worn off, she took heart over the matter. After all, Henry was able to father a child, and she herself had conceived and birthed a child. This led to Catherine having a fresh surge of hope for her future, and although it meant that Richard had to put up with watching the woman he loved continue to love and give herself to someone that he despised, he knew that Catherine still loved Henry, and her renewed hope made him happy. He could never bear to see her unhappy or without hope.

Later, as Diane neared the end of her pregnancy, and Catherine still did not carry a child in her womb, she confided to Richard that she was afraid that she could never bear Henry a child. She increased her efforts, putting more pressure on Henry to bed her, which, much to Richard's disapproval, he seemed eager to do. Perhaps Diane was not meeting his needs as vigorously as she once did, in her condition. Henry seemed to turn to Catherine more, and appeared to be softening towards his wife, looking at her with affection at times, and showing few signs of animosity in public. Catherine sought Richard out less for sexual release, and more for loving closeness and companionship, which she still failed to receive from Henry.

Diane gave birth to a baby boy, whom she and Henry named Sebastian, and he took Diane's surname. In the weeks following his birth, Catherine withdrew somewhat from society at French Court, and kept to herself in her chambers. Richard went to her often, knowing that she needed extra comfort and reassurance at this time. Sometimes they arranged to meet in the gardens, as though by accident, and walked together for a while. Other times Richard distracted Catherine with a game of chess in his or her chambers, and occasionally he read aloud to her. She loved poetry, and he enjoyed seeing the soothing effect as he read to her, watching her eyes close and her face soften as she listened to the words ebb and flow. He felt that he would be content for the rest of his life if he could spend it like this with Catherine.

On other occasions, distraction did not help, and he would love her as best he could, listening to her while she poured out her frustrations and anxieties, or holding her when she needed to cry. If she asked him to, they would make love. Since her pregnancy, Richard had put into practice what Henry had once told him about preventing pregnancy, and this greatly put Catherine's mind at ease. It did seem ironic to her though, that she was desperately trying to conceive with one man, whilst taking steps to prevent conception with another.

One blustery afternoon, Richard arrived at the library to find Henry sitting in the window seat with a book, apparently fixated on the pages, but Richard could see that he was staring right through them. Henry startled when Richard approached him, and he put the book down, shifting himself to one side to make room for Richard to sit with him. He wondered what Henry would have to say, and sat down with a questioning look.

"Richard, have you ever seen Catherine cry?" The question took Richard by surprise, and he was lost for words to answer Henry. He had, of course, held Catherine while she cried countless times, but all of the times he had seen her cry were due to an intimacy that Henry did not know – and _must_ not know existed. The occasions that Henry had left Catherine in tears which Richard had witnessed, he did not even want to draw to Henry's attention, since Henry was ignorant to the fact that he had hurt her enough to warrant such an emotional response.

He feigned a look of racking his brain for a possible memory, his brow furrowed, before finally responding, "Why do you ask?"

Henry sighed. "Everybody knows she's cold and unfeeling. I recall her tears in the early years of our marriage on occasion – unhappiness over her failure to provide me with a child. But she has changed since then, and I have seen no trace of emotion or feeling in her, other than her temper, of course."

He paused, tossing his book onto the desk, but saying nothing more. Richard felt it safest to wait, rather than speak, and at length, Henry spoke again.

"I need your advice, my friend… I don't even know why I ask you, because you have so little experience with women, and heaven knows they are perplexing creatures! But you're my closest friend, and quite astute, I have noticed. So tell me, Richard, should it be cause for concern that my wife, who has shown no emotion for oh, at least half a decade, should behave… differently, for no apparent reason?"

"Henry," Richard shook his head in confusion, "what are you getting at? What have you observed?"

"Twice this week," Henry explained, "Catherine has been emotional – twice in one week, Richard! After all these years! I don't even know why it should distract me so."

"But it does?"

Henry nodded, flicking subconsciously at the knuckles of his left hand while he turned his thoughts over in his mind, before speaking again.

"We argued over my attention to my son – you know she flatly refuses to consider my giving my own son my name?! She has no authority to demand such things. I almost want to just legitimise Sebastian to spite her!"

Richard took a slow, calming breath before responding to Henry's words. "I am sure her agitation is borne out of fear, Henry, if you think about it. Diane has provided you with a son. Catherine has not. Perhaps if she had given you an heir, she would not be so anxious about Sebastian being a threat to her."

"A threat to her?!" Henry looked at Richard, incredulously. Richard wondered if Henry ever considered Catherine's point of view on anything, and inwardly rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"In any case," Henry continued, "we argued, which, as you know, is not an uncommon thing." He glanced at Richard, who nodded in acknowledgement. "But as I went to leave her, and she threw one last insult in my direction – the usual situation - I turned and threw one back. She always takes these interactions as though she can't even hear me, but she looked like a different person, all of a sudden." He furrowed his brow at the memory. "She always has an expression of stone, you know the one? You can't see past it. It was like that fell away suddenly. She knew it too, and she tried to hide it from me. She turned away, but not before I saw her face change."

There was a silence, and Richard prompted him quietly, "What happened?"

"She stood with her back to me at the window. Told me to get out. But I knew she was crying, however she tried to keep her voice from betraying it."

"Is that all?"

" _Is that all_?! Richard, she _never_ reacts that way. Ever. I didn't know what to make of it, I was so surprised. I stood there until she shouted at me to leave."

"I agree, that does sound unusual."

"And then this morning I arrived at her chambers to find her screaming obscenities at a servant! I went in, and by all accounts, she had slapped the girl, who I dismissed immediately to find out what had possessed her to do such a thing."

"What did she say?"

"She was angry that I had intruded, and that I had dared to get involved by dismissing her servant. Such a temper she was in this morning – I'm sure the whole castle must have heard her telling me that the servant had chipped the edge of her favourite dish, or some such trivial thing." He shook his head, displeased at the memory. "When I told her that she needed to control herself, she was so angry that she was both crying and shouting at me at the same time! I have never seen her so out of character."

"What happened after that?" Richard was concerned at what he was hearing.

"I left. It seemed like the best thing to do at the time. What do you make of it, Richard?"

Richard looked thoughtful. He really didn't know what it meant, but it did seem unusual for Catherine to react that way.

"I have no idea," he admitted, "but I could try to find out, if you like?"

Henry nodded his thanks, and Richard left immediately to seek out Catherine.


	26. Chapter 26

_**AN**_ _ **:**_ _Thank you so much for the reviews! This is a short chapter (sorry!) and also the last complete chapter that I had written back in November. I am working on completing this story, but also simultaneously working on several different Cathry stories, so I cannot say when I will update this one again, but I will get around to it, I promise! Do you guys want me to finish Richard's story where he's exiled from court, or go right through episode 1x11 ending with his beheading? I can't decide, so I thought I would ask. :)_

 **Chapter 26**

Richard was approaching Catherine's chambers when the door opened, and a nervous-looking servant backed out, waiting for another who was inside the doorway bearing a tray and apparently being reprimanded by Catherine. Her angry voice came clearly to Richard's ears as he arrived at the door.

"Honestly, Elise, I don't know what kind of stupidity could possibly have resulted in this confusion! Go _immediately_ and fix it!"

The servant curtsied clumsily around the heavy tray, full of what looked like afternoon tea. "Yes, m'lady, at once. Forgive me."

"GO!"

She scuttled out, and the two servants disappeared in a hurry down the corridor. Richard watched them for a moment before turning back to the open door and stepping inside. Catherine was writing at her desk, the quill scratching angrily against the parchment in front of her. She looked pent up with anger and frustration. Richard wondered if she had received some bad news, and he moved to close the door behind him.

As it clicked shut, Catherine startled with a jump, her writing marred by her sudden movement, and she looked up at him. Instead of greeting him, her eyes flashed daggers at Richard. Gritting her teeth, she scrunched the parchment into a tight wad, and hurled it across the room where it fell onto the luxurious rug, landing with a soft crackle.

"I'm sorry, Catherine, I didn't mean - " But she was up on her feet and moving towards him, her beauty enhanced, as it always was, in her anger. She was all fire and colour when it came to high emotions, and sometimes Richard felt that he could barely stand in her presence when she was incensed, such was the effect she had on him.

"Could you not have knocked?!" she huffed irritably. "What is the matter with everyone lately?! I despair of ever having a reasonable conversation or a moment's peace again!"

Richard didn't know what to say. "I didn't mean to disturb you," he tried again, unsure whether reaching out to touch her would have a soothing effect, or the opposite. He took her hand cautiously. "You seem… a little out of sorts, Catherine -" She shook his hand off, annoyed at his affection. "Is everything alright?"

"Except for interruptions and other irritations, yes, of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?!"

"I just wondered. Henry said - "

A short laugh of exasperation interrupted him. "Ohhh, I see! My husband has been whispering in your ear that I am being irrational and that he can't understand me – is that it?!"

"Catherine, I am just concerned about you, that's all. Henry doesn't understand you, that's for sure." Catherine dropped her shoulders slightly, prepared to listen for a moment as this statement caught her attention. "He never sees you cry, and yet twice this week he has. I was worried about you when he told me, and I wanted to see if everything was alright. Is something particularly upsetting you?"

"NO! Can a woman not be emotional?! Is it a mortal sin now?!" Her sarcasm was biting as her eyes flashed at him. She turned abruptly and stalked angrily to the window, looking out over the castle grounds. Richard began to walk towards her.

"Catherine -"

"Richard, I'm quite sure I would be perfectly content, if it were not for husbands, friends, servants, and half the rest of the castle seemingly insistent on trying to _ruin my day!_ "

The crash of her fist on the window-sill was muffled by the door opening noisily, as the two servants from earlier made their way nervously to where Catherine stood, bearing her afternoon tea. Richard hoped for their sakes that whatever correction she had insisted upon had been made precisely, and that she would be satisfied and take a moment to relax. He was unsure what to make of her attitude, and he needed to try to make sense of it.

Catherine glanced silently at the tray on the table beside her, barely acknowledging the servants, keeping her back to them, until a slight raise of her hand dismissed them and they retreated hurriedly.

She sank into the chair by the window, turning her attention to the tea tray on the table. Richard watched her lift the linen cloth off the plate, and stare for a moment at the raspberry tartlets in front of her. He knew they were her favourites. To his surprise, she seemed to deflate before his very eyes, and all the fire and spark from earlier disappeared.

"I wanted pastries with fresh cream filling!" she lamented miserably, and began to cry, leaning her face into her hand. Richard was so confused by her bizarre behaviour that he had no idea what to say or do, until suddenly everything seemed to make sense. Eagerly, he went to her side, kneeling beside her as she wept over her tartlets.

"Catherine!" he began gently, "I don't think everybody is out to ruin your day. Don't you think…. Don't you think that perhaps it's not _usual_ for you to react like this over pastries?"

Catherine sobbed in exasperation, her voice thick with emotion as she answered him, "For God's sake, Richard! If you're just going to belittle me over the stress I have to put up with, you can leave this damn minute!"

She raised her hand to gesture towards the door, but he caught it in his own, and pulled her gently to look at him, smiling at her encouragingly.

"No, Catherine, think about it!" He picked himself up from the floor and came to sit next to her, as she looked at him with tearful impatience. "You're snapping at people, and you're crying over your favourite tartlets. It's not just today either, like Henry told me. Could you perhaps be pregnant?"

Her tears forgotten, Catherine turned her face to him, wide-eyed. After a moment, she admitted, "I – I do feel quite similar to the way I did at first the last time… and I suppose I ought to have started my monthly bleeding by now. I don't know how that had escaped my notice!" Hope and joy flooded her features as she considered the possibility, and then she shook her head doubtfully. "But I don't feel unwell like last time."

"Perhaps it's different each time? I remember my mother used to say how unwell my sisters made her, and how fond she was of me for treating her better!" He smiled with amusement at the memory of his sisters wrinkling up their noses with displeasure every time their mother recalled her experience and displayed her favour for her only son.

"Perhaps…" Catherine's misery and anger was all forgotten as she clasped Richard's hands eagerly, her eyes shining with hope as well as tears. "Oh Richard! Could it be possible?! If only it would be true! I might give Henry a son! I would be safe!"

Richard laughed softly at her happiness – he was sure now that she must indeed be pregnant, _legitimately_ pregnant, and he was glad and relieved for her after all these years of waiting. He patted her hand affectionately.

"Go now, and see the physician," he urged her, raising her hand to his lips for a kiss. "I will go and tell Henry that I have no idea what is wrong with you, and that you snapped at me the moment I tried to talk to you. He'll soon find out the reason, and it's best that I have no idea as far as he's concerned."

He stood, and Catherine followed suit, seeming in a breathless daze of joyful disbelief. Seeing Richard making to leave, she suddenly flung her arms around him, squeezing him tightly to her in a loving embrace, before pulling back and surprising him with a brief kiss. He looked down at her flushed face and shining eyes, wishing she could be his and his alone, for always.

"Thank you, Richard," she smiled at him. "I – I - " She broke off, unable to find the right words.

"I know," his face reflected her happiness, "I know." He cupped her cheek with a tender hand. "Go on now."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

The next months were a happy time for Catherine, as Henry was delighted that she was at last carrying his child, and was constantly in cheerful spirits, being very attentive to her and giving her a great deal of his time. He seemed to put aside his previous animosity and hardness of heart, along with his mistress.

Catherine blossomed in every way as the months passed, and Richard delighted in watching her, even though her newfound happiness with Henry meant that their relationship waned into a deep friendship. Catherine's heart belonged to Henry, and now that his attention was on her, she could not sustain a relationship with another, as fond as she was of Richard. It made him ache, but he knew it was right, and there was nothing he could do about it in any case. She had been so sweetly apologetic and guilt-stricken about it for a while, but he hoped that he had managed to assuage her guilt and assure her that all was well between them, and that he was truly happy for her.

When the time came, one icy morning in the middle of January, with snow blanketing the landscape thickly, Richard paced the floor of his chambers feverishly, feeling certain that Henry must be pacing similarly elsewhere in the castle. Catherine was in labour. At least Richard had the insight that Catherine had had an uncomplicated, safe delivery before, but he knew that each time was unique, and anything could happen. She could not possibly be in better hands, he reassured himself, given that she was providing the country with a new generation of heirs to the throne. They would do everything possible to keep her and her child safe and well.

She had laboured through the night, and Richard had not slept at all. He ventured out of his chambers once to enquire after her, but he didn't dare to draw attention to himself by asking again.

When the morning light broke across the white countryside, the purity of such white brightness made the whole world seem as though there was something new and fresh about today, of all days. Richard had washed and dressed himself, more to pass the time than any other reason, and was standing at his windows looking out over the wintry world as he attempted to eat some breakfast, when the trumpets sounded in the Throne Room. His skin prickled with goosebumps at the sound, which almost overwhelmed him with awe at the vastness of its meaning. Was it to herald a visitor of importance, or could it be… He waited, frozen at the window without breathing, listening to the triumphant sound. As it died away, the church bells took over, pealing joyfully in the castle grounds. Impulsively, he grasped the window handle and opened it wide, the bitterly cold air stinging his nostrils as he breathed it in.

The noise of the bells was much louder in the open air, and over their clanging noise, his ears picked up the distant sound of church bells ringing a way off in the village, as though singing a round with the bells here. After a moment, more bells could be heard in the new church at the village in the opposite direction. The whole land was singing for joy, and it could only mean one thing. Catherine's child was born.

Closing his window in a hurry, Richard left his chambers and all but ran to the Throne Room. Hovering around the place where Catherine had given birth would not be appropriate, and he would be able to hear the news in the busiest part of the castle. King Francis was arriving almost as soon as Richard had entered the room, his old face beaming with joy as he stood before his throne with his wife. He raised his hand above his head.

"Today, God has smiled upon us in his favour!" he declared. "Today, a new Valois Prince is born! A son for the throne of France!"

A cheer rang out from the crowds gathered to hear the news, and Richard cheered too, his eyes welling up with joyful tears for Catherine. He assumed, until proven otherwise, that she must be well, because King Francis was full of joy and Richard knew how fond he was of his daughter-in-law.

/-/-/-/-/-/

The celebrations for the child, named Francis in honour of his grandfather the King, continued for many months after his birth – his naming, his christening, and all manner of otherwise minor events such as the physician declaring the infant in good health. France was delighted with her new Prince and every opportunity was taken to celebrate. There were feasts and banquets, contests and festivals as the weather warmed during spring. Catherine glowed, basking in the joy of having provided her husband with an heir, and France a Prince. Richard could see that her true happiness was in being a mother to her new son. He delighted in watching her with the baby, her face lit up as she spoke softly to him and stroked his cheeks gently. Henry was pleased with her, and spoke favourably of her, which was a great relief to Richard. He missed holding her in his arms, but her joy and happiness made up for it somehow.

Every chance he had, Richard spent time with Catherine. There was never as much opportunity as before, as Henry had time for her these days, and she was often pre-occupied with her child, but Richard would visit her at the nursery, play chess with her when she had time, and walk with her – through the castle halls on wintery days, and in the gardens when the sun deigned to come out. He loved her still, and cherished every moment he had in her company.

One pleasantly warm late afternoon in April, Richard sat with Catherine on a blanket spread below the freshly leafing branches of a large cherry tree in the gardens. Pink-white blossom littered the grass in all directions, and many still clung to the tree. Little Francis lay beside Catherine on the blanket, gazing upwards, mesmerized by the little blooms floating and twirling to the ground. His mother smiled at the awe on his face and bent down to kiss his downy head. Richard smiled too. Babies did not delight him as they did others, but he was fond of Francis for Catherine's sake. His delight was in seeing her with him, and how happy she was. She looked so beautiful, glowing with love for her child.

"I love seeing you so happy."

She looked up at him, still smiling. "Being a mother makes me happier than I ever imagined."

Richard nodded, his hand covering hers for a brief squeeze. "I expect it's a relief for you too, to be revered by all of France as the provider of an heir to the throne! And so you should be. I'm relieved too." Catherine turned her hand under his, squeezing it back, and he asked, "How are things with Henry?"

"Things are…" she hesitated a moment, "…going well. It always seems like Diane is waiting in the shadows somewhere, but he hasn't given her any attention since Francis was born…" The doubt in her tone made him ache, but she shook her moment of insecurity off as though remembering something.

"He is being very caring and attentive, which is lovely. Making sure I rest enough and spend time with Francis… Actually, he has insisted on accompanying me to see the physician today, once I take Francis back to the nursery."

"Are you unwell?" Richard felt his chest tighten.

"No." She smiled fondly at his concern, laying her hand upon his knee. "My monthly bleeding has returned and he wants the physician's word that I am fit to conceive again."

"Is that really necessary? Surely it's evidence of readiness to conceive by itself?!" He didn't know why he felt so defensive. Was Henry pushing her to conceive again before she had recovered fully? Or was the opposite true – he wanted to be careful NOT to push her before she had recovered? Richard always felt helpless when it came to Catherine's wellbeing. He yearned to look after her himself, to put her needs first and make sure that she had the very best of everything. Sometimes he didn't trust Henry to do that, and yet his hands were tied to protect her.

Richard looked down at her hand on his knee, and let his gaze wander up her arm, clothed in the finest embroidered silk. He followed the line of delicate stitches up to the shoulder, where the neckline of her dress swept her fair skin, exposing her collar bones and the hollow of her throat. He closed his eyes momentarily, struck by the unexpected pang of memories – times when he had not needed to be restrained; the many occasions that his lips had lingered there as he cherished the closeness between them. She turned her head then, gazing again at her baby son, and her strawberry blonde curls fell over her shoulder, hiding her neck from him once more. He knew then, with absolute clarity, that he would never marry. Catherine had won his heart, and there would be no room for another, even if his feelings for her were to be unrequited for the rest of his life.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Richard walked the grounds of the castle for some time after Catherine left to take Francis back to the nursery. He wondered if Henry would continue to treat her well, or if he would revert to his old ways before long. He was torn, thinking of the two possible paths for his future, for his heart. He had always assumed to stay at French Court. Henry would be King one day – soon enough, if the rumours were true about King Francis's state of health, and Richard had every intention of remaining by Henry's side to become an advisor to the King. He could not hope for a better position in society, though perhaps that was less important, now that he knew he would never marry. But what of his future? Henry might love Catherine and be a good husband to her. Her joy would be complete, but Richard would have to bear seeing her in Henry's arms, and never holding her again for himself. On the other hand, perhaps Henry would revert to his old ways, and Catherine would need him once more. She was his first priority, and he knew he had to be there for her.

He took the longer route back to the castle through the beds filled with flowers that were pulling their petals close to themselves as the sun began to set. He had barely entered his chambers when Catherine burst in without knocking, somewhat breathless and wide-eyed.

"Catherine?" Richard crossed the room quickly as she closed the door behind her, concerned by her appearance. "What's wrong?"

"I – We – I went to see the physician with Henry, as you know." She glanced at him, her posture tense and anxious as she twisted her hands together. Richard nodded, impatient for her to continue her explanation, but she hesitated, managing a few steps towards the chaise before sinking down onto it, shoulders hunched. After a moment, she looked up at Richard and he could see the fear in her eyes.

"The physician asked me if I'd ever been with child before."

"What?! Why? How could he possibly know?" Richard felt shaken.

"He didn't get to explain – oh Richard, you should have seen Henry's face! You know what he's like – he has always been quick to envy, and I don't think the thought has ever crossed his mind that I might have betrayed him in such a way."

"What did he do?" Richard asked hesitantly.

"He asked the physician what on earth he meant by that. The man must have been terrified, and I have to say, I felt quite shaken too. Henry gave me such a black look, even though he has told me that he doesn't believe it."

"And the physician?" Richard's anguish was plain to see. "Did he say what he had meant?"

She shook her head. "He began stammering something about having assumed, given some older marks on the skin, but Henry shouted at him before he could finish speaking, and told him he would have his head if he implied such terrible things about his Queen again."

Richard remained silent as he thought over what Catherine had relayed to him. Could there really be signs that might allow another person to know that a woman had carried a child before? Signs that would be proof without argument? Their lives might still be in danger, even with nothing to show for their relationship, and Catherine having given Henry a son. He looked up at Catherine, who sat twisting her fingers together absent-mindedly, her eyes wide and anxious. There was nothing to say, and little to be done about it. There was no way to know whether Henry would brush the matter off, or be dissatisfied with anything except finding out the truth. He did his best to comfort and reassure Catherine, but she seemed so shaken that he took care to walk her back to her chambers and ask her lady to prepare her a lavender bath before she went to bed. Perhaps it would soothe her and she might be able to sleep. It seemed so little to be able to do for her, but it was all he could do.

As Richard was leaving Catherine's chambers, he almost bumped into Henry, who seemed surprised to see him.

"What is it with you and Catherine, my friend?"

"I – uh, beg your pardon?"

Henry gave a short laugh. "You've always been good friends, I know that. You've always been at her beck and call, I've noticed."

Richard quickly tried to cover up. "I have been – Catherine had often asked me to advise her on matters, and you know me, Henry. I enjoy being of use and putting my opinion out there!" He smiled with a light-hearted shrug.

Henry raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, but his wordlessness put Richard on edge. It wasn't like Henry at all. Richard watched Henry continue on his way towards the doors to his wife's chambers, hearing them close behind him as he turned away, his heart sinking. He couldn't discern the thoughts behind Henry's look. Sometimes he was quite unreadable, and it unnerved him. Did he suspect something other than the friendship that he knew about? Did Richard's presence at her chambers make him feel unsettled? Richard hurried away to his own chambers, needing to think. If Henry began to suspect ANY connection between himself and Catherine, other than a secondary friendship to the one he and Henry shared, he might begin to dig. If he did that, he might discover that there was more to this so-called evidence of Catherine's previous pregnancy, as they feared. And if he was at all suspicious about Richard in connection to Catherine, it wouldn't be too hard for him to realise that perhaps the pregnancy had something to do with himself, Richard. He would lose his head, very likely. But what frightened him more was the fact that Henry would accuse Catherine of adultery publicly. At best, he could divorce her, exile her, and marry Diane, and Catherine's heart would be broken. At worst, she could lose her life. Richard sat up quickly. He could not – he _would not_ let that happen. He loved her far too much to let there be any risk to her life.


End file.
